My Queen, You are My King
by TheThirdTime'sACharm
Summary: Altria is a queen ruled by no king. She alone defends her kingdom and her people, but she can only protect so much. So, when an oncoming threat looms over her kingdom, Altria has no other choice but to seek help from a foreign king of gold; this decision doesn't sit well with her knights, especially her lancer. Fate/Zero fic. Arthur/Diarmuid, main. Gilgamesh/Arthur,side. MedeivalAU
1. A Queen named Altria

**TheThirdTime'sACharm: So, been wanting to read a neat fanfic about my two fav Fate/Zero characters, Lancer and Saber, buuuuut was saddened to see how few there were. I know Gil and Arty are a popular pairing but, eh, I liked Diarmuid better. So instead of complaining about the lack of love for this pairing I decided to change my tone and just write a fanfic about them. Thing is . . . I wanted this to be a longshot but it turned out TOO long and so now it's a multichapter fic, this of course will be why the chapters are so oneshot-ish, sorry but that's how I've written it.**

**I've written a ton of this fic now so I'll be uploading the chapters fairly fast (if I don't suddenly drop dead or anythin'), but thoughts and love would be wonderful for this fic. It's my first so I hope you guys will like it. It's somewhat set in the medieval times so their dialogue is based after so, but not too too much. Well, I've tried. Please enjoy my first Fate/Zero fanfic!**

* * *

She was their queen and they couldn't ask for more. Even when neighboring kingdoms insisted that a land should be ruled by male heirs, her faithful subjects feared no change of mind because she was great and they would easily stand by her side should those "male heirs" try to prove their dominance with their puny armies.

With endurance and long suffering, Queen Altria proved herself time and time again and in adulthood she became the ruler over the whole land, beside the isle from the west. Even so, they no longer have qualms with that kingdom resting closest, in fact, a number of knights from the emerald isle have sworn fealty to Queen Altria and these noble knights speak for the isle and continue to show its ongoing peace with the wise and young queen. Out of all the knights from the emerald isle, none adores the queen as closely as Diarmuid Ua Duibhne whom had sworn his services to the queen years before any peace between the isles had commenced. He would always fight closest to her side and just like any other knight—would take a wound for her.

"HAH!" Altria cried out as she thrust her sword down into the enemy and let his red liquid turn the beach and its waters a crimson color. Once the soldier's motions relaxed, so did Altria. Wiping the sweat off of her brow she turned her head upward and watched with a small smile she covered well as her most boisterous knight swung his two spears free of blood and walked toward her.

"What did you think of the battle, queen?" he asked, that bright smile on his lips, bearing white teeth as his lips pulled taut apart.

"What battle?" she answered back, turning to motion toward the fallen soldiers around. "These men I would hardly call warriors, what with the way they bore nothing but their backs toward us."

Her lancer only threw his head back and his laughter, being as contagious as always, sparked the other knights around to burst out in voluminous laughter. Victories always brought on a mood among queen and her knights. She couldn't deny them the joy and pride of knowing they defended their land and people well. Just as long as they never ached for war and battle, Altria never grieved them with scolding words.

"Well then, my knights," Altria smiled, all knowing of what she was about to speak next. "The feast hall awaits your presence, and I fear the castle longs for its queen. Let us mount our steeds and return."

In unison her knights rose their weapons and let out a victorious battle cry, a job well done and over. Making their way uphill, toward their horses, Queen Altria found her soul in content at listening to the lighthearted jests of her men and took ease in the fact that she had lost no knight in the fight. Ever since her 18th birth year her kingdom had grown considerably and peace with their neighboring isle had helped them stack up defenses on the beaches to the south and east, as well as posts and docks in the west.

"My lady, should you need a lift to mount your stallion?" Altria focused her mind this time on her closest knight, the one she was trying to figure if he were an insulting adolescent, or merely a lovingly pestering brother-like friend. Altria of course would never give herself a straight answer for the simple fun of weighing the two options.

With an ease as any other knight, the queen swung her body up and mounted the much taller animal with ease, looking down at the dark-haired man who had actually taken the time to lean over and offer his hands as a stepping ladder. With another nose-thrust into the air, Altria planted her armored foot onto the man's firm chest and gave him an unbalancing kick, watching in secret glee as he tumbled to the ground and landed in the wet sand. The sounds of loud laughter never disheartened anyone's spirit and so it didn't dishearten Diarmuid.

The raven haired man threw his head back and laughed toward the cloudy skies above. Opening his amber eyes he looked up toward his queen and caught that smile on her lips before she turned her steed and began to lead her men back home. "Come, Diarmuid. Enough playing in the sand, we all wish to return home."

This is why Queen Altria was loved by so many and hated by so few; she had a heart that longed to understand her subjects, given from the highest noble, to the poorest peasant. Being born a female put her in a disposition and she understands this, but because of this she is the hardest working citizen in her kingdom and nothing could stop her from continuing her strive to make her kingdom a better and safer place and giving her people the happiness she has promised them as their ruler.

The only reason for anyone to hate her, for the few who did, was the fact she was born a woman and changed the reign from male bloodlines to that of female. Those of the old way would eventually fade away because Altria was on a rise to Heaven and with numerous supporters, nothing would be able to stop her.

That was all her men wanted her to know.

"Hey, Queen—do you remember your fifteenth birthday?"

Altria closed her eyes and rubbed her blistered palms as she sat in the comfort of her throne, her gown falling gracefully against the curves of the seat. "I should think it best you refer to me more honorably, Diarmuid; especially in my presence."

The man simply smiled but nodded. "Do you use that tone with Lancelot, Altria?" A wary eye was the only warning the knight received from his queen. With a shrug of his arms and an incline of his chin he asked, "do you remember or not?"

"Of course I do . . . how could I forget?" Altria looked down at her bruised hands, she thought about having someone send for the leather dresser to fit better gloves for her armor, but she had been asked a question and so she should answer as any gentleman would do. "I'm certain I am not the only one who remembers. As I recall, you and Lancelot and even Gawain were there. Why do you bring that subject up?"

"That right there." Altria blinked in confusion before noticing the knight's index finger pointing toward her and when she looked down to see what he might be aiming toward he simply told her, "That smile. That smile of triumph. I never get tired of seeing it. That was the day you decided to become supreme ruler of this land. Granted the attacks from the opposing kingdoms from the west and north did take its toll on us, you led us through and paved the way for your reign."

"No, it was my knights who did," Altria admitted with a soft smile. "Without your loyalty I would never have been able to unite this kingdom under one crown." A soft gasp escaped Altria's lips upon the feel of something poking her brow. Looking up, she noticed that Diarmuid had taken the time to close the distance between them in her time of reminiscence. His calloused finger pressed ever so slightly into her pale skin as if trying to drive something into her skull.

"You're doubting again, Altria. How many times must we tell you to stop and remember your leadership?" Altria smiled and moved the knight's hand away from her face. Of course Diarmuid only let it fall onto the armrest of the throne next to Altria's wrist as if in a teasing manner. "Must you continuously jester in a flirtatious manner, Diarmuid? Honestly, what would the others think?" Diarmuid stifled a chuckle—probably due to the fact of how monotonous his queen had just stated her sentences.

"Come on, this castle could use a little scandal," was the lancer's answer with an attractive wink that just didn't affect his queen. The blond however only closed her eyes and leaned back in her throne. "Away, Diarmuid."

"Yes, milady." The knight returned to his post near the left corner of the throne room, occasionally throwing lighthearted glances her way. It was something the two had done since Altria could remember. Diarmuid was one of her first knights—but a mere boy when she first met him.

He had come from the neighboring isle in a small rowboat about ready to capsize once it crashed into shore. She hadn't seen him when he arrived on her isle, but she heard accounts from those who first beheld him of how worn he had been and tattered from the long journey in the small boat. But that hadn't deterred his mission to find the ruler of the land—which she happened to newly be—and challenge them in fight and prove their worthiness. She remembered how worn he looked when he came before her, he looked malnourished and looked as if ready to faint, but no matter what she insisted the young man persisted in a fight with her and so she had no choice but to heed his wishes.

In the beginning of the battle, Altria recalls her surprise and amazement as the fires of the battle to come sparked life within the young warrior and it's as if he had rested for a full 40 nights to prepare for this battle. She had never seen such a young yet experienced, and on fire, man who lived for the thrill of steel clashing against steel and blood and sweat dripping to the ground. Of course Altria was quick to notice the kin spirit they both shared—chivalry, it was a good spirit to have upon one's self when a warrior one wished to be. With that kindred light she easily accepted the warrior and knighted him without hesitation . . . and in return, he held nothing back when he bent on one knee and bowed his head toward her and swore his life and the life of his spears to her crown.

Since then, this man was her first knight and after him quickly followed Lancelot and the others. Of course in the beginning of her reign she had taken soldiers into her rule from her father, but they were quick to betray her and on the eve of her 15th birthday they attempted to overthrow her, and they might have done so . . . if she hadn't had so faithful knights who bled and died for her.

She had lost many of her loyal subjects and barely escaped the castle with her life had not Lancelot reared the Calvary and had Diarmuid take her to the tower to leap from. Honestly a broken leg wasn't so bad and of course she had to wait until she healed to rally up her faithful subjects to get her kingdom back, but the wait wasn't so bad . . . especially when she was healing and waiting right beside Diarmuid who had broken the same leg.

In a way, one could say those were the "good ole times" when in reality it was Altria's darkest years. After she had gained her castle back and killed her uprisers, war from the west came and it took three long years of grief and sorrow before they recognized her as sovereign ruler and left her shores with tidings of peace. She had been worn to the bone but more importantly, her knights—especially Diarmuid who had slain many a friend from his homeland for the sake and duty to his sworn queen.

It had been hard to order the lancer, as his queen, to forget about the friends he had slain or the land from which he had come from, but it was necessary or else the man would forever dwell on the woes of those dark years. A knight should be clear of ill thought and so Altria made sure he did as sworn to. So, with bended knee, the foreign knight became as one born in her own land. His loyalty for his queen thus proven and his mind brightened. Of course Lancelot and the others helped brighten his mood like the brothers in arms they are—Altria tried to tell herself, her intervention was little compared to the other knights, but one could never know how the affected felt toward those helping him.

For all those years of darkness, Altria knew she wouldn't trade them for anything. In those years she became close to her knights and they understood their queen and her leadership. All of them were diamonds and in those years of war were they carved and shaped to the most precious gems as she sees them now. All of them, Lancelot, Gawain, Diarmuid, Bedivere, and the others, all of them were Altria's precious jewels that she wouldn't trade the world for.

Looking at her knights who aligned her hall, each standing in position in stance they saw fit—she smiled and realized that they had each grown in stature, each baring thicker bones and sterner muscles from battles and wars past. They were indeed the personification of the ideal warriors and Altria took pride that they were her warriors, all sworn to her kingdom. There was no greater a feeling than the pride she felt in her men.

Still . . . 18 years, 10 months, and 4 days into her life and Queen Altria realized how rapidly life could change. At the mere age of 13 her father had passed away and forced the Kingdom upon her, of course as if running it wasn't difficult enough she got a foreigner appearing before her and challenging her swordsmanship. That battle never had resolved and Altria always wished it would have—but life had quickly caught up with her and with her knights and now look at her, already a woman.

You know, around this age one would think to invest into finding a husband.

"A king?" Sir Gawain looked confused at the simple wording of the question. Tapping his chin in thought, he turned toward a few other knights behind him as if searching for an answer from one of them. Every single man simply rolled their shoulders in a shrug and so the knight sighed in defeat. "Honestly I've never thought about such notions. I've been with the Queen for a long while and she seems perfect just the way she is."

But this same question continued, on to other knights . . .

"Our queen is perfectly capable of ruling a kingdom without the presence of a patriarch," Lancelot answered while sharpening his sword. "I would, however, like to know the name of those who started asking this question."

This was one such reaction out of the knights and for a while the question was brought down to a hush and other accusations such as the knights were actually the true rulers, forcing a poor girl onto the throne in means to control the female. However, that was shot down as well.

"Look at our kingdom. What more blessing could we receive if we were to add a king?" Bedivere asked, motioning around them as a cool breeze brushed through his hair. With a soft smile upon his lips, he looked at those asking this of him. "I do not believe that even a king could have accomplished such a peace. Don't doubt our queen. She doesn't doubt any of you."

The question hadn't meant to be hateful or to strike up a rebellion. It was simply curiosity and when one observes neighboring kingdoms and finds only kings upon the throne, one might wonder why their land is ruled so differently. Though, much to the knights tries, they willed the people to see that there was certainly no need of a king, not when their crowned sovereign has done so much for them—be them male or female.

Their kingdom was certainly the strongest isle kingdom and thus far they have defeated pompous raiders wishing to cross their shores and hurt the citizens. The people were safe thanks to their queen and no king could have done any better at defending one's land and people than Queen Altria.

And in such a peaceful time, one couldn't help but want to ease their defensive mind and senses.

"Hey, Altria, did you hear what questions have been going around?" Diarmuid received a good wet and sharp splat to the face from a rough fabric that better not have been a loincloth. "Would you show our Queen some more respect, starting with better toned addresses?" Lancelot asked while he ripped the cloth away from the dark-haired man's face who coughed at the impact and then eyed him dangerously.

"Come on, we're not in front of any peasant or noble! I can be as informal as I like, besides, our dear queen says she doesn't mind, right?" He turned with a puppy smile toward the woman addressed; she was currently striped down to her linen dress and finishing taking off her last shoe. She looked up at her men with bright green eyes and shook her head.

"At ease, the both of you. Diarmuid's right. Right now, right here . . . I'm one of you."

One might think it crude, if not downright disgraceful for a king, much less a queen to stoop down to the level of her knights, intending to drink with them, laugh with them, even bathe with them. But she had known many of these knights before her since she was at the age of 13 and viewed many like a brother if not an older cousin. Nothing was secret between them and she had no shame in uncovering her nakedness to be with them while they splashed around in their cleansing spring that only her innermost loyal companions knew of.

The spring, glowing an unnatural blue in the light of the moon above had a small fount of rocks. The water would trickle down and one could stand under it if they wished to let it rain upon their head. The pond, for the most part was fairly deep, a good 7 feet, enough for an easy swim around. The fish that dwelt within were all so small and yet all so beautiful and bright, they usually never disturbed the knights from their cleansing and the knights never threatened the little ones' lives.

This was their secret place where they all gathered together once every month to cleanse themselves and commune with one another, forming stronger bonds and closer brotherhoods, but of course this place was where they saw their queen the truest—a fellow knight, a fellow gentleman; their sister and yet their brother as well.

Most knights thought about this in kind. None harbored any malicious or devious feelings toward their queen, especially not in this moment, when she opened herself up to them and bathed with them like a fellow man. At first, this had been common for her because of how much she resembled a young boy at the age of 13, but she bid these get-togethers not cease even when womanhood forced itself upon her and breasts developed upon her small body. She trusted her knights to view her body and not think any ill towards it, like she did them . . . but, secretly, she feared her jealousy of their thicker forms and toned muscle to reveal itself and she prayed to God this wasn't counted as a sin of hers.

"Are you having trouble, milady?" Altria turned; face becoming more red with frustration. She blushed when she noticed her knight, Bedivere standing just right behind her, looking to help her. "I know it sounds ridiculous but I cannot loosen this lace. You men have nothing so complicated as women do in gowns."

Bedivere just smiled and caught sight of the problem and immediately went to work at it. "Ah, a knot. You are right, Altria—I've never seen anything get so tangled so many times than the laces of a lady's dress."

The queen chuckled and waited for the knight to solve the problem, but after a good couple of minutes she turned to look over her shoulder and became surprised at the unusual sight of Bedivere's red face. Looks like the knot was too tight. "Forgive me, I don't know how the knot even came to pass," Altria admitted with a blush.

"What's wrong here? You guys are taking forever over here." At the mere sound of his voice, Altria's shoulders slumped and she let out a sigh. Knowing him, he's going to try and untie the knot himself but of course he'll come to the same conclusion Bedivere has. "Diarmuid, just join the others. We'll have this problem fixed soon."

"How soon, 2 hours from now? That's just not going to cut it, but this will." Altria went to jerk herself around for fear of what her oh-so-loyal knight would attempt to do. Sometimes . . . his ideas weren't the brightest.

Before Altria could protest to anything, Bedivere was pushed aside and . . . the lace was cut loose. "DIARMUID!" Altria cried out in such a higher pitch that all her knights about went deaf in that moment. Her linen dress fell down her shoulders, but of course her natural instincts caught the fabric before exposing her breasts. She turned and glared fire at the short spear of Diarmuid's that just so happened to be in his hand with traces of defiled fabric hanging off of it. "This dress was expensive!"

The dark-haired knight only smiled that smile he knew would always get him out of trouble with the ladies . . . but not this lady.

"You have plenty of riches to buy another of its kind," Diarmuid tried to defend himself while he watched in a slowly paling face as his queen made her way over toward her sword. "Hey, hey, if it meant that much to you, I'll buy you another one!"

Altria stopped herself once her hand met the hilt of her sword. Her mood suddenly calmed itself and when she turned to look at her knight she sighed. "This linen dress, though simple in design, was a gift from the tailor's wife."

"Oh, Myreade?" Diarmuid asked. "I'm sorry again; I swear I'll get you a new one."

"Leave her alone, Diarmuid," the knights lounging in the pond called out. "She's just upset because that was the only dress that fit her!" A loud burst of laughter full of "ooohhh's!" and "Awwww's!" went up into the night air and of course the reaction they had gotten out of their queen was worth more than any gold or silver.

Altria's face had become the brightest shade of red possible, her green eyes were so much easier to see when her face glew like that, of course after this reaction they all knew she'd burst and insult them back. That's just how they were.

"HOW DARE YOU MAKE FUN OF MY BREASTS, YOU VILE HEATHENS!" With that battle cry the queen let her ruined linen dress fall and rushed right into the springs, jumping into the water and grabbing at whichever knight was closest to her. All of course were too busy laughing to attempt an escape and so many ended up in the queen's abnormally strong arm hold choking to death. "Whoever said it was your apple-sized bosom?" "Tis true, one could have suggested your deflated sacks of wine for a backside!"

Altria cried out at the insult and simply took to splashing at any knight with their mouths hanging open from the laughter they continued spitting against her. Drowning them was the second best thing. But Altria's laughter was heard among the other knights and in that they connected their souls.

It was in these small moments, where Altria could get away from being queen and instead being a fellow brother among her family. Here, there were no formalities, here, she could be insulted and made fun of, but here she could do the same with the others; nothing professional about it, just bonding. And Altria swore she would do this for years to come.

Turning 19 in just one month hadn't looked so promising to Altria as a queen . . . or as a knight.

* * *

"What? !" Altria's eyes were just as wide as her other subjects in the room. What they were hearing was unbelievable and coming so soon to them . . . it was just unheard of.

"But that docking post was one of the most heavily guarded! How can it have been destroyed so fast? Where are the enemy ships anyways?" Altria continued to stay silent and let her counselors speak in behalf of her for the moment. The messenger seemed so afraid and by the state of his attire, it looked as if he had just walked from a burning building.

"We do not know. The ships came and then they left," he answered, looking down at his shaking fingers.

"Hold still." Lancelot stepped forward and tried to place reason back into this conversation. "A docking post it may have been, but one would have to actually come onto shore to destroy it, unless they try hurling objects from their ships at the post, but that would again prove impossible for any seaman because of the rocks jagging the shallows. That docking post was one of the most secured by men and by nature."

"Then, sir knight, why don't you go and look upon the remains of the post and return and tell me the same!" the messenger cried out, tears running down his face. "I lost my wife in that attack. She had been with child, our first, now I return to you alone! So tell me again how secure that post was!"

"At ease, good sir." Everyone's head turned toward the queen upon her throne. She was looking at the horrified watchman who had just laid out what he had seen upon their ears. Her commanding words seemed to cease his trembles, but his tears continued. She smiled softly before closing her eyes and saying, "You have my deepest condolence from the loss of your wife and child, as well as my utmost thanks for trudging onward and coming forth to tell us what you have seen. Granted I do promise you and those lost that the docking post will be the last to fall. I will send out searchers for the ships and will immediately declare a no-sail zone in our waters, even among our allies."

"You have to stop them, my queen," the watchman said, his tears running down hot with anger as his eyes burned into those of his queen's. "You mustn't let our time of peace come under threat!"

"I swear this to you and the rest of my people," Queen Altria said as she placed both hands onto the hilt of her sword she held before her. "I will achieve peace, no matter what!"

Altria hadn't known the horror to come as her words broke apart and her promises vanished into thin air. She had rebuilt the docking post and sent more soldiers, but once again it was destroyed as well as four others. Again it was the same as before . . . the ships came and then vanished as if never there. No one came ashore and the ships never got too close to the rocky shallows. They were described as throwing boulders of fire at the docks and each time it struck many men were buried to death under them.

The queen was running out of options, she had no choice and so she sent one of her closest knights to a docking post suggested to be struck soon. He had brought along a few of his own trainees and waited at the post for the attack.

"It is good to see you here, lord Bedivere," the watchmen announced as they helped the knight off his stead and took in his belongings. "I was assured you would be able to find these devil ships and bring them down."

"That's if we get hit," Bedivere explained, smiling at the men. "I pray and hope we don't but you can never tell with these uncertain times. But I shall serve you to my best and protect this post with my life."

"Those words are assurance enough for us, my lord," they said, slamming their fists to their chests and bowing low.

They left the knight to himself and watched on in silence as he surveyed the area. He took note of how few rocks there were in these shallows. "Hm, it will be easy to scale land here, but will they do it?" Once again he took in the docking post and noticed that the watchmen were afraid, despite his words they trembled. He couldn't blame them; the fear of this invisible fleet set fear even to those living furthest inland. He knew he had to do something, and soon.

"Might I ask for a small boat to be planted there?" The knight pointed toward a looming cliff right before the bay. "If any ship came they'd have to get close to the bay in order to attack the post. It would be my best chance to board a ship if I and a few of my men could wait there."

"As you wish, my lord," the watchmen said and provided them thus much.

It had been a Wednesday when it happened. Evening was just breaking the day and the very moment the sun had set, the black sails appeared. When the alarm sounded, the ships lurched their first fiery boulder. It landed into the bay and tore off a wooden fence border. Men were shouted and yelling and scrambling to their positions. Bedivere had stayed in the small boat by the cape of the bay all afternoon and expected an attack by night. He was right.

He remained quiet with three of his men as he heard the ships nearing the bay. He could see the large objects falling onto the docking post and ripping it to shreds. His men clung tight to him and begged him to return to the post and help the watchmen escape their pending doom. "No, we must wait for a ship to draw closer." That was his command and they obeyed. However unbearable, Sir Bedivere persisted and waited for a ship's helm to poke into the bay, next to his waiting boat.

"NOW!" he commanded and all three of his men kicked off the cliff wall, ramming the small boat against the ship and just as they had they hurled a hooked ladder up Bedivere was first aboard and with sword in hand he struck down the first seaman he saw. Once the blood was spilled the rest of the slain man's ship mates turned on him, but it didn't matter, his other three comrades were already on board, slaying as many of the black dressed men as possible. When the knight finally took the time to take in his enemies appearance he paused. What unusual people—each one of them was wearing black and a white, skull-like helmet was placed upon their brow. They looked to be demons come forth from Hell.

"Do not spare any of them," Bedivere ordered, raising his sword and bringing it down upon a foe, splitting his head open with a single cleave.

The four had fought until their arms began to weigh, but just as they slew the last of the vile creatures, the ship rocked forward, slamming into the ship they stood upon, splintering it to pieces. Two of Bedivere's men fell between the cracks of the ship and were crushed in the bows. The other laid near Bedivere and clung onto the mast.

"Are they mad? !" Bedivere heard his student shout as the ship continued to plow through them. "They're to sink themselves!"

Remaining silent would bring the knight to his death and so he turned toward his student and told him exactly what to do. "We must jump onto that ship. It's the only way or we'll be crushed!"

The other looked afraid, but Bedivere knew they had no other option if they were going to try to live. With the moaning and the snapping the ship was about to fall to pieces. Just as Bedivere determined, the two jumped and landed onto the other ship, there they were met with knives and swords. Bedivere managed to block the attacks, but his student was punctured in the neck and would die within the minute. He regretted having the man jump to meet his death in such a way, but he had no other choice.

Raising his sword, Bedivere lopped off three heads of those warriors nearest him, but they seemed to keep coming from below. As the knight cleared a path for himself he saw the fleet hidden in the fog. There were hundreds of ships; it was no wonder why they would sacrifice one of their ships to enter the bay. Bedivere had never seen so many in a fleet before and he wondered just how many demons lay in their bellies.

_I mustn't let them enter the bay. If they come ashore here they might attack on land. There's too many and we're not ready!_ Bedivere knew what he had to do. He turned and made his way to the helm that was currently unguarded. He turned the ship and caused it to push against the ruined ship against it so agonizingly that it snapped in half and stuck them against the cape, blocking the bay.

"AH!" Bedivere lurched over the helm once that ice cold pain shot through his body. The feeling originated in his side and when he turned to look at it, he watched as a wounded warrior reached up, blade in hand and pressed it into his side, twisting and turning it to make the wound fatal. Biting his lip, the knight felt other blades press into his body and when he looked around he saw nothing but skulls staring at him, overpowering him. But at least they wouldn't be getting into the bay soon.

"You cannot stop us, warrior. Once your docking posts are destroyed, we move inland!" They seemed to all say in unison like a choir of voices. Bedivere felt them trying to pry him off the helm, but he wouldn't move. He coughed and felt something warm fall down his cold lips. It was the crimson of his own blood. He couldn't speak any longer; his throat was choking on the liquid.

_God . . . save my country . . . save my people . . . and protect my queen._

When he looked up he watched with amazement as fire reigned from the heavens and everything turned to dust.

* * *

It had been a long time since the kingdom has lost any knight and a great mourning was wrought about the land once the news of Sir Bedivere's death fell upon every ear. None had known what had become of the knight until his body washed up shore near a docking post further south. On his body it was clear the blades were still embedded. Also a note was given to the dead and taken and read to the queen.

"We are many, we are strong, and we shall kill every last living being in the land when we march abroad." The counselor sighed. "Nothing else is said in the letter."

"They're trying to scare us," Lancelot noted, looking toward his queen who remained calm and collected at the news of one of her closest knight's death. "We fear no one but God Himself. Are they higher than the Heavenly Being?"

"But they killed Bedivere!" Everyone turned toward Diarmuid who had stepped out of position to speak his concerns. "We need to take them to their graves! That's a declaration of war; what they did!"

"We would all like to kill those heathens," Lancelot stated, looking at the other knights whose grips were considerably tight upon their weapons. "Especially for Bedivere's sake, but they come and then they leave."

"Then we'll wait for them to cross our paths," Diarmuid swore, holding up his spear, his eyes growing dark with the need to kill.

"No," the queen spoke up. The attention of the hall was now upon her. "We must not let them touch ground upon this land. I have promised the people and so shall I keep it." With a stamp of her scabbard and the echo resounding, the knights silenced themselves. "Sir Bedivere was a noble knight, worthy of praise and song. I know it was he who blocked the bay and allowed the others at the docking post to escape before it was destroyed by fire. He did not wish for them to touch ground and so neither do I."

"But, your majesty, ships of the sea we have few and they are for mainly merchants," one of her counselors spoke up. "And to ask to build them would take months and great expenses."

"I understand," Queen Altria spoke up, opening her eyes and looked at her sword. "But I shall ask the merchants to fit their ships with weapons and set them at the docking posts to guard and on each ship I shall set up a knight. They will not set foot upon my kingdom!" Yet again, the queen slammed her scabbard down upon the marble floor and in that echo they could hear the heartbeat of their queen and the determination in her gaze was great.

But would it be great enough to hold back an unknown devil fleet?

They had expected the attacks to happen within months of each other—they happened faster. Week after week there was an attack, whether at a docking post or a village unfortunate to settle by the sea. There was death everywhere and the queen caught some of her guards thanking God that her castle and city surrounding was more inland than seaside. She didn't have time to be thankful for anything. Her people were dying and her defenses were being crushed into dust. Already two of their ships, merchant ships fitted with weapons, were sunk and what was worse, Altria heard from a few of her knights who witnessed the black fleet that the ships seen were considered uncountable. How was that even possible?

Now the queen regretted her foolishness in the years of peace.

Altria tossed the goblet of wine off her table, the plate of food remained uneaten and her bitter attitude darkened the atmosphere around her. "I should have built ships . . . those years . . . I should have built more weapons. I should have invested in better defenses! But I was a foolish little girl just playing in the damn mud!"

Falling deeper into her throne, Queen Altria let her resolver weaken, her hands placed over her face as bitter tears threatened to spill. What kept them back was nothing short of a miracle.

"You couldn't have known this was about to happen." Altria looked up, face red in frustration as she looked toward the only knight in the hall—the only one remaining in her castle currently. "Don't say that, Diarmuid. What else should a queen do but find ways to protect her people? I wasn't doing my job like I should have."

The dark-haired knight glanced down, his fists tightened to where his knuckles became pearly white. She knew he was upset over having to stay behind while she ordered the other knights to the seaside, but she needed company, especially his—her closest knight and friend.

"Tell me, Diarmuid . . . do you wish to join Lancelot and the others? Do you wish I had not ordered you stay at the castle?" Altria's green eyes had dulled and just meeting the enthusiastic lancer in the eye was proving difficult. She watched as Diarmuid held his tongue, closing his eyes and pulling his face downward.

"I obey the commands of my queen."

"Then I am commanding you to tell me the truth!" This time it was Altria's plate that went flying, rolling to a stop somewhere near Diarmuid's feet. The silent man simply bent down and picked it up. "Leave it there, the servants will clean it. You, answer me right away."

"What would you have me say to you? !" Diarmuid asked back. "Do you wish me to agree with you in saying you were foolish in times of peace? Do you wish me to say that you took Bedivere's death too lightly? Do you wish me to say you are unfit to rule this land? What do you want me to say? !" Anyone would have jumped at the harsh tone Diarmuid was using with the woman, but she's known the man long enough to know what he means and when he means it. She still couldn't look at the man and became so frustrated. "If you command it . . ." Altria's eyes then met her lancer's. "I will lie to you. But you have ordered truth and the truth is . . . I know you're trying your best and using every last resource you have to fight some damned invisible army. I know the amount of stress you're taking in, but I also know you can take it." He then smiled that warm smile that Altria kept him by her for. "You can take it because you're the queen. Because you're my queen."

"I often feel . . ." Altria looked down at her sword, her scabbard covered in gravy from the plate she had recently scattered. "That I am unworthy of such devotion, especially when my efforts are for naught."

"You're a patient woman . . . always have been." There was that smile again and Altria found her stiff lips fighting against stone hard skin to smile with him. _I wish you knew why I've kept you here, Diarmuid—if more for your smile than your spear._

A knock on the door alerted the two and when Diarmuid opened it to reveal a gravely-faced watchman, the knight looked back toward his queen who had lost her smile, and prepared for the worst.

They had lost so many more knights. Too many pieces shattered from Altria's heart that she could bare. So she had called every knight back toward her and ordered they take the remaining ships to search for allies. The queen had never once had an ally in a neighboring kingdom and this coming from her was new to her knights.

"Are you sure about this, Altria?" Lancelot asked.

"I have exhausted everything I can to combat this enemy," the Queen said. "Do as I say and set sail immediately."

With that order the knights did. A few traveled with each other and when they crossed the sea they separated with a band of guard and servants baring treasure to offer. When Lancelot set sail and they bid him farewell, Diarmuid turned toward his queen and begged her let him return to the land from which he was born and seek allies from them. When Altria denied him, his mood dampened.

"I should think you have no faith in me . . . my queen," were the knight's words as he set his two spears down and sat himself against a pillar.

'You're far from useless, Diarmuid. You're the only one keeping my sanity together right now, with your smiles and jests—so don't stop smiling for me. I'd be lost without you.' Of course that's what Altria had wanted to tell the man, but the catastrophe wrought upon her people hardened her heart so much that the words were lost and bitter silence left in its wake.

Slowly, one by one, the knights returned, most with apology gifts from kings and rulers of far and wide regretting not being able to help the isle queen. It was nothing less than Altria expected; the concern from the black fleet destroying her kingdom from sea inward was too great a concern than to deal with apologies in the form of gifts.

"What do you want us to do with this?" Gawain asked, holding the chests full of silk, pearls, gold, silver, and gems. The queen hadn't been responding to her knights or advisors lately, her mind was too clouded in the thoughts of the threat looming over her people. Diarmuid had taken up voicing her wishes. "Just put them in the stores," the knight said, crossing his arms. "Put them with the rest of the rust."

Gawain inclined his head toward Diarmuid and bowed himself before his queen before leaving with his servants. Diarmuid let out a sigh and turned toward his queen and close friend. "I know you're concerned about the black fleet, but that gives you no right to ignore your knights."

"Lancelot still hasn't returned," Altria muttered, her mind elsewhere.

Diarmuid shook his head. "Wouldn't blame him if he deserted."

Altria turned her gaze upon her knight with a hate burning in them. "How DARE you question Lancelot's loyalty!"

"I'm not," Diarmuid defended, holding his ground against the upset woman. "I'm merely stating that any other ruler would honor a servant better than you are right now. No matter how worried you are, don't shut us out. We've been with you this far, we're not going to leave you now. Just remember us for a little while, will you?"

There it was again, that smile that Altria needed to see every day. Full of hope and understanding it was and Altria felt as if she had lost those emotions in these dark months. Again, this is why she kept this knight by her side, especially him.

It had been a few weeks since an attack and the queen had been overly stressed. So, due to Diarmuid's idea, he and Gawain decide to abduct her from her bed and bring her to the spring where the other knights had awaited. There they set her down and let her remember the place where she and her knights could be on equal level.

"We know you've not been sleeping, Altria," Gawain spoke first, watching the girl, too thin in frame now, slink down to her knees and pull at the green grass under her. "And eating," another knight offered. "Look at you," Gawain motioned toward her lighter body and noticed how her normal dresses were hardly fitting her, with laces tied tight and everything. "You've neglected yourself and so we've brought you here so that you may know we care for you." With that, the knight knelt down low to her, the others bowing just as low. Altria tried to force out a smile, but she was so tired from the worry her body stressed on.

"Well, we're here at the springs, so we might as well clean up. You know how Lancelot gets when we're not as clean as he," Diarmuid spoke up with a chuckle, trying his best to lighten the mood while he took off his shirt and unfastened his belt. "I can just see his face when he gets back . . . 'you all smell like swine!'" the young knight even put on the man's famous scowl and an eruption of laughter broke out.

He had broken the ice and soon the other knights were undressing and entering the waters, lathering themselves and rubbing fragrances upon them.

"This stuff will make you smell like a field of flowers until kingdom come." Gawain laughed, holding up the vile and offering it toward the others. When he passed it toward Diarmuid, the lancer help up his hands in protection.

"Question here: would the ladies like to lay with a man who smells like a field of flowers? I can understand a woman smelling like that, but a man . . . if Altria likes it, then I'll do it." A playful wink was directed toward the queen who remained near the pond's edge, bare feet cooling into the water. The young woman closed her eyes and inhaled the scent flowing from the vile. Suddenly a smile formed on her small lips. She opened her eyes and they seemed . . . brighter.

"I like the smell, but I'm too sure about the ladies in the tavern. They're more into the alcohol scent."

The knights were thrown back by their queen finally coming to and jesting with them. Diarmuid smiled though he looked hurt by her words. Crossing his arms he shook his head. "Never ending abuse I get. You see what I had to deal with since you boys left?" Of course his only answer was splashes of water directed at his head and mouth. The knight dunked under water and emerged by his queen's feet. "You wouldn't dare get me here!" They did dare.

"Ah!" Altria looked down at her wet gown from the fearless knights who dared toss water toward Diarmuid who was seeking refuge in her presence. With a smile she kicked the back of his head lightly with her foot. "Enough of that. Come here, Diarmuid."

"She's going to propose to me, we talked about it before we came here," Diarmuid whispered to Gawain who had been wading next to him. The knight chuckled and watched as Diarmuid slid back against the wall of the pond and rested his head between Altria's knees. When he felt her thin fingers come to massage his scalp he closed his eyes and let his queen do what she may.

"The ladies like men whose hair smells pleasant, as long as you have it in your hair you don't have to worry about smelling until kingdom come," Queen Altria informed.

"Take her advice, fellows, she knows what she's talking about," a knight said with a chuckle.

Altria glares at those laughing at her. "Despite my fierceness in battle, I am still a woman and do know what other women want."

"What do you want, then?"

"Yes, tell us."

"What does our queen want?"

Diarmuid looked up at Altria who had the cutest of blushes on her face. "S-Stop staring at me like that, all of you!" Suddenly, the rest of the knights surrounded her. "We won't let you head back until you tell us."

"I don't have to tell the likes of you, brutes!" Altria protested as she stood up, trying to make her way out of the middle of her fellow knights, but, like they said . . . they took hold of her dress and wouldn't let go. "Let go!" she demanded, trying to pry her dress free without ripping it. "I shall not ruin another dress!"

"Let her go," Gawain said. "If she doesn't want to tell us, it is up to her."

Altria was grateful for the knight and when she returned to her belongings and began placing her shoes back on she slowed her pace and chuckled lightly. "Tell you the truth . . . I've never really thought about it."

"Not even as a young girl?"

"Not even," Altria said, shaking her head. "Becoming queen and all of these wars, I suppose I just haven't had the time."

Her knights smiled at her before she crossed her arms. "Well, what is taking all of you so long? You'll prune if you stay in there any longer. Let's return to the castle, you've all worn me out."

With smiles, they were happy to comply and Altria would admit that that night she slept the most peaceful in the months since the destruction of her docking ports. The next day though, brought about the fullest of surprises.

"My queen, my queen!"

A messenger came riding through the streets, calling out to the woman. Altria heard him from her window as she dressed her hair. She looked down and caught him. "My queen!" He called to her. "We've received a message that Lancelot is returning this evening! You can see his ships from afar at the southern docking post!"

Queen Altria hadn't known why, but her heart skipped a beat as if hope jumped out and lodged itself in her throat. She was quickest to turn around and grab her armor. On her way down she stopped for no one and so her knights followed closely behind. "Diarmuid, you'll ride out with me. Gawain, you'll keep watch over the castle with the others while I'm away."

So Altria took her lancer and a few fellow guard as they mounted steeds and rode south. They had made it just in time to see Lancelot's ship come sailing in, but the most breathtaking part about it, were the ships following close behind. At first Altria feared it to be the black fleet, but her heart was set at ease once she realized that all of the ships following Lancelot were sailing with golden sails, and their hulls were decorated with the precious metal. There were so many that she couldn't believe it.

"Lancelot has brought back an ally, he must have!" Diarmuid noted, looking at his queen. "Our worries will be over." She smiled at him and deep down inside wished to wrap him in her arms and squeeze him tight. She had been that excited, but held her countenance as the ships neared the cost. "Let's go meet them!" Diarmuid said, excited in seeing his old friend after so long.

"No," Altria said, staying his trot. "I am queen of this land . . . they shall come to me." She stared at the ships which were dropping anchor so closely she hadn't seen Diarmuid's soft proud smile. "Yes, my lady." So he stood on her right and held both of his spears at his side, waiting just as she said to.

It had taken a while to align the ships alongside the coast. It seemed to have taken even longer to exit the ships and come ashore with all their belongings. Queen Altria and her men beside her watched from atop a hill to the east and they all stood tall and proud like their queen in the wait of these foreigners.

"This fleet should be enough to destroy that devil fleet," Diarmuid muttered, looking quite pleased at the sheer size of the golden armada of ships in the waters.

Altria looked at him briefly before making sure the knight understood the circumstances. "A new ally we may have, but no bargain has been negotiated." The queen took a small pause, looking down and beholding the people exiting the ship and letting Lancelot lead them ashore. They were all clothed in rich fabric and very beautiful to look at, but one man stood before them all, clad in golden armor that Altria didn't doubt its worth. "I will know their terms for us soon enough."

They watched closely and pointed out the obvious leader; of course the one sitting down upon a carrier and having eight men carry him was sign enough of who was in power. The walk up the hill wasn't too far and the terrain wasn't too coarse and so Altria and her men immediately became leery of this ruler and his ways of ruling.

"My queen." Lancelot fell to his knee immediately and palmed his breastplate. The man looked worn; there were dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks looked more than a little hollow. A worry set upon the queen before she remembered her place and focused her attention on this new ally of theirs. Of course, seeing to the nourishment and rest of her knight would come later.

"It is good to see your return, Sir Lancelot," Queen Altria spoke with a smile. "Now rise before your queen and introduce whom you have brought to our humble kingdom."

The knight nodded and stood, turning toward the man in golden armor. He seemed easily reclined and quite curiously gazed at the landscape around him. When his eyes met the queen and her party he smiled, though nothing of the pleasant kind. One simple glance to her soldiers beside her was enough, but his uniquely colored eyes stayed upon Altria and would not move.

"This is King Gilgamesh; he rules vast lands in the south, next to the great sea. He was the first ruler I came across and the only, as I've stated, his kingdom is vast." Lancelot stepped beside his queen and let the two rulers eye each other to what they saw fit. Queen Altria smiled and jerked her eyes to her surroundings for a brief moment. "I am certain the land of which you see is no ideal surrounding for you. This isle is all I have, but I and my people are content."

"Don't be so modest, queen," the king finally spoke and Altria caught the authority in the tone of his voice. How it came so natural was a mystery. She, herself, had such a hard time practicing such a gift when she had first become queen. The only skill that had given her authority was her skill in swordsmanship—it wasn't until after the war of the isles when she received peace in her kingdom that everyone acknowledged the authority in her words. "This land is quite green; judging from what I see thus far. Tell me, does it rain often?"

"It does," Altria said with a nod. "In fact, the time is approaching for the storm to come. Shall we escort you to my castle?"

"Lead the way, but my men and I have brought no horses. Do not fret, I quite enjoy the rain, should it come whilst we travel to your home," King Gilgamesh assured her; reclining himself more onto the golden cot on which his men carried him. The queen was not one to deny a new ally their wishes and so nodded. "Then I shall ride next to you." "My thanks," Gilgamesh said, looking at her with a sharper smile. "You certainly are a courteous ruler. Those are quite rare in these times."

_Do I know the truth in what you've said_, Altria thought with an inward sigh. Remembering all the rejections from other rulers in lands far, the queen was glad that someone had responded; Lancelot did her well.

There had been silence while they walked back toward her castle, the king mostly continued to exam the queen and when his eyes stayed on her men who rode beside her on steed he took them in closely. Of course Altria had felt the unease among her guard around her while they stared back at the foreign king so differently dressed apart from them. Diarmuid was especially uneasy, Altria caught sight of the knight tightening his grip on his spears, and apparently she wasn't the only one.

"Your warriors seem to look strong enough to defend their queen," Gilgamesh noted, his gaze still on Altria's knights, especially the uneasy ones like Diarmuid.

"If you like to look then you shall see we _are_ strong enough to defend our queen _and_ land!" Diarmuid declared, holding his spears close and narrowing his eyes at the unmoved king.

"Silence! You will not speak to the king like that." The Queen glared at her knight harshly and Diarmuid immediately bowed his head and expressed his apology. "My apologies, my queen." He then turned toward Gilgamesh, and without meeting him in the eye, bowed his head to him as well and muttered, "King."

Gilgamesh said no more words, just a lazy smile painted his face while he closed his eyes. A little while into their walk the king looked up and then touched his cheek. Altria noticed a small droplet of water had fallen upon him.

"Should I have my men cover you?" She asked. Gilgamesh did not respond to her, he simply laid there, seemingly content to stay as he was and let the small sprinkling of the rain drop upon him. "As I stated before, I do not mind the rain. Tell me, Queen Altria, what year was it when you became queen of this land?"

"It was my 13th year, King Gilgamesh," Altria answered. Gilgamesh opened his eyes and looked upon her, once again taking in her form. "Might I inquire your age?"

"I am 19 years of age," she replied, her gaze falling from his and to the long road ahead. The storm clouds were darkening their view of the road and she wished to return to her castle soon.

"It's alright you know." Altria turned to Gilgamesh with a confused look in her eyes. He smiled and nodded his head. "You can ask me questions if you'd like. It's only fair since you've been answering mine."

"I wouldn't know where to start," She admitted, her gaze falling back to the road ahead of them.

"You could ask how many subjects I rule, how old I am, when I became ruler, if I'm a gentle or . . . a violent king." At the last phrase, Altria had looked at the blond man and he at her, his smile seemed too intellectual to be for giving simple truths. She knew there was more to this man and to why he was here, but she couldn't ask him those things here, not in front of her men, and his.

"If you wish to keep that to yourself I am content," Altria answered truthfully. "You are my guest and I do not expect your loyalty."

"I see," Gilgamesh said with a nod. "You're a fine queen indeed. I find it interesting how you've come to rule without so much as a patriarch originally at your side."

"I have heard the same confusion in other kings as well. You are not the first, King Gilgamesh," Altria stated. "Tell me, your travel to this land wasn't to simply look upon the poor girl who had become ruler as a sole heir, have you?"

Gilgamesh, this time, smiled with his teeth and they were perfect, straight and white and brilliantly aligned with his lips. He was a very attractive man any woman or man could see and become envious of such a being so graced by God.

"I'll leave that answer for you to interpret," Gilgamesh replied, raising his head to feel the rain fall upon his pale skin. "The land where I come from treasures the rain. There have been years we have had to go without its blessing of healing the crops. Your land is good, Queen Altria."

"As are its people, I can assure you," she said.

"That, I shall see for myself," Gilgamesh said, silencing himself once more to enjoy the feel of the light rainfall.

They had eventually made it to the castle, granted the sun had set and the light rain had heavied. Once inside, Altria offered her best rooms to the king and his men and bid them wash themselves and rest for the morning soon to come. Gilgamesh had refused though.

"If you don't mind, queen, I wish to discuss the terms of my arrival here," he said as he looked around the hall of the throne room in which he stood in. His gaze met Diarmuid and Lancelot and saw how they would follow their queen anywhere she stepped. "Privately, if you don't mind."

"My queen, might I suggest this become a public meeting, with the counselors and other knights?" Diarmuid asked. "You have just met this king and I don't know if his intentions are to harm you."

"I am well capable of defending myself, Diarmuid," Altria assured before looking toward Lancelot. "Should I meet with him privately, Lancelot?"

Lancelot was hesitant for a moment before he nodded his head. "Just be careful, my lady. I have yet to see him become hostile toward anyone, whether it be my guard or his own people. I do know that he is dangerous if the time calls. Keep your sword close."

Altria nodded before she turned to Gilgamesh and motioned him to follow her. The two left in silence and it had been long before they returned. Lancelot, though bid by his queen and fellow knights to eat and rest, had not moved from his post in the hall. The remainder of the queen's knights stayed there into the late hours of the knight, waiting for their queen to return to them and dismiss them herself.

Just before the crack of dawn had they returned. Gilgamesh stopped before the throne and examined it. As he stood there for but a moment, the queen's knights whom had not moved from their positions, all looked at her. She seemed tired and more than anything, stressed. They could not ask anything of her now, but still worried greatly for the woman.

"The queen's knights shouldn't fear anything," Gilgamesh suddenly spoke up, turning around with that same smile on his face and looked at each individual knight, stopping with Diarmuid. "I have agreed to help this kingdom. You all should sleep in peace tonight." With that, the king of gold turned and left with his guard to the room shown to him earlier. Once his presence was gone, the knights immediately approached their queen.

"Queen Altria, what is it that you have promised that king for his alliance?"

The small queen simply shook her head and smiled softly at her men. "He's right, get good sleep tonight. Our official allegiance shall be announced tomorrow."

Even though ordered, no one had slept at all in peace that knight. The presence of the king stressed everyone, when morning came, the whole castle could tell that even the queen hadn't slept well. Of course she was good at hiding her unease with the way she held herself, especially before the people. She had to be well at holding herself upright in times like this, she was a queen, and what she had given the gold king in return for an alliance set everyone against her decision.

"What? !"

"Why did you agree to this? !"

"My lady, this is not like you at all!"

The knights all protested many a thing, as did the nobles upon returning from the announcement on the balcony before the city of people. Altria though sat there, seated firmly upon her throne and apparently her decision as well. She listened to the complaints for a good twenty minutes before she raised her sword and struck its scabbard across the floor.

"I have run out of options on how to combat this black fleet. They are far too many and too distant to do anything about. They have killed numerous of my knights and left so many more civilians of my kingdom lifeless. I cannot offer much save for what the king had already sought when he set to journey here with Lancelot," Queen Altria spoke in firm authority.

"Did you know of his intentions, Lancelot?" Diarmuid asked, turning with hate in his eyes aimed at the older knight.

"I did not," Lancelot answered. "He never fully stated his intentions, only that he was interested in helping our kingdom and queen."

"You mean helping himself," Diarmuid spat. "That selfish king is the reason why this land has no king!"

"But, Altria . . . why have you chosen this upon yourself?" Gawain asked, looking at his majesty with great concern. "You shall receive no happiness in something so forced."

"It's not meant for happiness, just protection," she stated. "Our marriage will be as official as can be among two rulers of different nations."

"If the marriage is so void then what would that king get out of this?" Diarmuid asked, his scowl full of bitter hatred for this situation.

The queen closed her eyes and all her knights could see her visibly grip the hilt of her sword tighter. They could tell she didn't want this and that this decision was made for her people alone and not for herself.

"I shall bear him an heir," Altria informed and let her eyes remained closed so she didn't have to look into the horrified faces of her knights while they looked on, disappointed in their queen no doubt.

"An heir? !" Diarmuid was quite louder than any other knight. "And then what? Shall he leave or will he command his heir rule after your stead? !"

Altria did open her eyes, but she focused her sight upon the beautiful work of the scabbard of her sword and remained lost in it, trying in some way to escape reality. "No," she answered. "He swore to me that his firstborn heir shall not rule my land. He swore that he desires no kingdom from me and simply an heir."

"But why you?" Lancelot asked. "Surely he could wed any other of his own nobles and have her bear his heirs."

"He would not help this kingdom if an heir wasn't promised," Altria informed. "Before, he told me, that he had been deciding if he would ask this of me or instead just leave. Apparently he was amused by me and so 'graciously' accepted I be the mother of his heir."

"Once the child is born, will he leave?" Gawain asked.

Altria nodded. "He said he would, after the child is old enough to travel abroad."

"That could be years!" another knight complained. "The people do not like him and they do not like your decision in wedding him. They think him to come to be known as their new king."

"Then they are mistaken," Altria informed. "I am still your queen and he is just a foreign ally. Nothing will change over an heir."

"It had better not."

"Here, here."

"Still, this was my decision alone to make. I am queen and my say is above anything," the queen stated. "Whether it is favorable to the people or my knights, it matters not. Thus says the queen, and thus it is. But just know . . . my decisions, though often greatly hated by myself," Altria placed a hand over her heart, "is always and will forever be for my people. I would gladly give my life up if it were to save all of you. Know that and trouble not your souls."

How could it not trouble her knights or her people? At the mere age of 19 they were having to watch a wedding ceremony come on too fast to a king they knew next to nothing about. What was worse, he was a foreigner and knew nothing of the land or the people, nor made any effort to get to know them. Instead, he isolated himself with his men and would often visit his fleet, he had not spent too much time with his new "wife" and because of that the he had earned greater displeasure among the people.

"What husband leaves his wife the very day of their wedding?" Diarmuid muttered to himself while he sipped on the ale provided at the wedding banquet. Of course he hadn't concerned himself with the fact that he was sitting right next to the queen at the long table and the other knights were near as well.

"Easy," Gawain spoke up, leaning over Lancelot on the other side of Altria who hadn't eaten too much of her meal and simply sat there, staring into space. "Our beloved queen sits just an arm's length from you."

Diarmuid looked at Altria and hadn't hid his scowl before drinking up. "'n care. Even our queen knows how a husband should be. The least he could have done was wait until after the wedding banquet to leave. Look at the counselors and nobles . . . they're not enjoying themselves either."

"No one is, I believe," Lancelot spoke up. "Besides, our queen's husband left to order his fleet to sail toward the eastern side of the isle. He should return in his own time."

"He can take his time," Diarmuid muttered again. "His presence isn't missed."

There was a silence at the table of the queen and her knights hadn't spoken either. Too many of them insisted on getting drunk and forgetting this day even existed, especially Diarmuid, the young knight was already on his fifth cup of ale and he shook his head, turning to his queen and poking at her plate. "Not eating, your highness? Today's a merry day, right?"

"Diarmuid!" Lancelot warned. "Don't disrespect our queen."

"I'm not," Diarmuid replied. "I'm simply observing. You're quiet, Queen Altria . . . sad your husband has run off so soon? Or are you just awaiting his return like a faithful new bride? Awaiting for the wedding night when your husband returns for you and brings you to his bedchamber."

"Diarmuid!" The other knights about stood from their seats to confront the dark-haired knight, but the queen had beat them to it. Diarmuid as well as the others stared up at her, awaiting a scolding or a form of punishment for his harsh words, but nothing came. Instead, the queen simply took the veil from her hair and walked off silently, leaving her guests to dine alone.

"You have upset her!" Gawain accused, slamming his hands on the table and standing from his seat.

"She's upset herself for marrying that bastard," Diarmuid explained. "I know she wishes he doesn't return, but for the sake of this kingdom she had no choice but to hope he does so that we may be rid of the back fleet destroying our land and the lives of our people. But no new bride should be treated like some sort of vessel like this. He is no husband to her."

With that, the young knight stood from his chair and took his goblet and left the remaining knights. It was hard times in which to keep together . . . especially when their queen was giving herself away to a foreign power. They were all still very loyal to her and would no doubt only take orders from her, but because they were so loyal they were known very well to love their queen and when her best interest was threatened, they felt angered and upset; protectors always did.

It was true, that none knew what it was like to rule your own kingdom and the sacrifices that come with it . . . especially if one was to rule for the sake of the people, it left one to make hard choices and reap in bitter consequences. All of them knew that and all knew they would never be able to take her place and rule as she does or make the decisions she does, but by God Almighty they wished she think about herself and the happiness of her own life than theirs.

* * *

**TheThirdTime'sACharm: I decided to name Saber, Altria, in this fic because it sounds more feminine than Arturia (to me at least) and there's not more than one "r". I know she's often written as Arturia, but that's for another story, 'kay? 'Kay. Review please and tell me what you thought! Also! Sorry for any grammer mistakes I've probably made, too lazy to go back and spellcheck.**


	2. A Knight named Diarmuid

**TheThirdTime'sACharm: As I've stated before, I've written alot and so I'll probably be updating fairly quick. This story was supposed to be maybe 20 pages long but after 100 pages I'm like "Uh-uh, this is NOT going to fit into a Longshot." So it is safe to say this story will be possibly the longest Saber/Lancer fic ever . . .**

**But, yay! I'm so glad to hear from you guys and specially your thoughts of your enjoyment of this fic. I'm glad you like it because I had a blast writing it (you can tell I got carried away after a few hundred pages . . .). So please, by all means continue entering in your input. I love it. Much love!**

* * *

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne was the closest knight to the Queen. He had been Queen Altria's very first knight and so the reason behind the closeness of their bond was quite clear. But that meant he was also the first to believe in a queen's reign alone, an idea never heard of until Altria took the throne. Being the first to believe in her crown and ideals was very special and the other knights wished not to take anything away from the two but they were being torn apart because of this marriage.

The other knights had never seen Diarmuid so angry or upset. The most down he had been was when he and the queen had broken their legs from the leap from the tower in her attempted uprising at the beginning of the Isle Wars, but even so he would put on a smile and challenge the lady to heal as fast as she could so they could gain her kingdom back. They did and her kingdom was secured and more knights swore allegiance to her.

It was strange how those dark years seemed to be when they were closest. Right now, none would believe how easy or how fast it took to put the knights at odds with the queen and they wished that they could all be as self-sacrificing as their queen, but she seemed to be made of a much greater heroic spirit that none could compare to. That reason there could be what hurt the young raven-haired knight the most.

"Shouldn't you be at the banquet, Sir Diarmuid?" the whores at the local tavern asked, both beautiful women with bright red hair, and red lips. One came to wrap their arms around the knight's shoulders like she knew how he liked it and the other sat herself at his feet, massaging his calves. "The queen's gotten herself married."

"What do you think of her husband?" Diarmuid asked, his golden gaze off, not even looking at the two women. The women shared a look with the other before they threw their heads back and let out adorable laughter. "Husband?" one asked, while the other said, "What husband? He was absent after the ceremony is what I heard."

"You heard right," Diarmuid said with a sigh, gulping down a good round of ale. "This is my 10th glass. What do you think of that?"

"Hmm, drunk enough to have fun with us yet?" they asked, their dark eyes even darker with the promise of a good time, but Diarmuid only shook them away. "No," he responded. "If I drink too much then I don't feel well."

"Oh yes, I remember what happened last time, you threw your meal all over my sister's dress," one laughed while the other crossed her arms. "I very much liked that dress."

"Ladies, I did repay you for that mishap, remember?" Diarmuid interjected. They smiled and settled down next to him again. "You did," they replied. "You're a good knight, Sir Diarmuid."

"A good knight would be there for his queen, no matter what dog she married for a husband," Diarmuid muttered to himself before his anger was directed toward his own being. Slamming his glass down, he stood up and grabbed his spears. Leaving his whores was something he was used to, so their whining was of no effect to them.

Diarmuid returned to the banquet, but only to be in the company of the rest of the knights. After the party the knights remained in the hall, none slept because they knew their queen would arrive soon. She usually had a habit to come and sit on her throne when she was troubled and this night she was the most troubled.

In night gown she walked silently into the throne room. She looked at her knights, all standing in position; they were all accounted for, even Diarmuid. The knight looked at her, sadness in his features and she only had to look away to stop herself from crying the tears she wanted to. So there she sat through the night; upon her throne, in the presence of her brethren who would always stand beside her.

The queen had managed to fall into as peaceful as a slumber as she could upon her throne. No knight disturbed her because they knew this might be her last peaceful rest for a long time. Just as dawn broke through the windows Diarmuid moved from his place and went to leave.

"You're leaving?" Gawain asked.

"I'd rather not be present when her 'husband' returns," was Diarmuid's reason for leaving. No one stopped him and no one would explain to the queen why one of her knights was missing because she would never ask. And just as Diarmuid predicted, King Gilgamesh returned that morning. He came before the queen and informed her that he had commanded his ships sail northeast to find the black fleet and guard the towns close by.

"Thank-you," Altria said with a nod. "If possible, we could get them upon the ground we would stand a chance of defeating them, but when they stay on their ships, I cannot as so much send good men to die."

"Then it's high time you invest in a naval fleet, my wife," Gilgamesh stated, reaching out and brushing a lock of hair out of her face. The queen leaned away and Gilgamesh stopped himself. "I'm sorry about that. I forgot our marriage isn't traditional, but you need not be afraid of my touch, my lady. I can be quite gentle." Gilgamesh had been too close for the queen's liking and so she brought her sword upon her lap as a means to press the king away. Gilgamesh understood her perfectly and just smiled. When he turned around each and every knight bore hard eyes upon him and possible threats of death in their air. "I know your knights don't like me, as well as the other people, but I hope to prove to you as to them that I am good for my word and a valiant warrior. I will protect you and your land." With that he turned and left the throne room. Altria let out an evening sigh and looked toward her knights. She offered them a smile but it was hollow.

"I should think I'll have a walk out in the city." Queen Altria stood up and placed her sword next to her throne. "Wouldn't be needing this, now would I?"

Her knights would have followed her, but they saw the way her fingers twitched and how she continually rubbed her hands. She was nervous about her marriage and afraid, she just needed time to cope with herself. The city surrounding the castle was peaceful enough but they did worry about their queen walking among the people when it was she who brought these unpopular foreigners here and let them stay by wedding their king.

"Should we follow her?" Gawain asked, concern in his voice.

"She'll return if she's overwhelmed," Lancelot stated, looking on at the empty throne and the queen's sword neatly placed beside. "And it takes a lot to overwhelm that woman."

"It does," the rest of the knights agreed.

* * *

"My, my, Sir Diarmuid, should I think you've found a special lady?" the seamstress asked, wiggling her eyebrows at the man who uncharacteristically began blushing. "No, no! Why does everyone always think that? Look, I ruined this lady-_friend_'s dress and simply wish to repay her by getting her another one."

"The fabric you've chosen is quite expensive," the seamstress pointed out as she held up the rich royal blue and the white silk, the two main colors as well as the fabric Diarmuid had personally picked out. The Knight simply smiled and shook his head, pulling out a purse full of coins. "I've saved, the price doesn't matter."

"Very well," the rounder woman said as she turned and laid out of the fabric upon a table behind her desk and took out a measuring rod. She began cutting the fabric after a few measuring tasks and Diarmuid immediately spoke up. "Wait! Don't you need me to tell you to measurements before going off on a wild guess?"

"I know Queen Altria's measurements like the back of my hand, Sir Diarmuid," the seamstress said, turning to him with a wink and kind smile. Watching the boy blush again always lightened the old woman's heart. That knight's reactions were too cute for his own good. "Now be off with you and stay out of those taverns. You're a good lad and don't need to dirty your image."

"What's wrong with going out for a drink?" Diarmuid defended himself . . . this woman's always given him grief ever since his teen years and she still continues to do it just to jest around.

"Nothing wrong with that," the old woman said as she began folding the fabric and placing it upon a sheet. "It's those wenches you hang out with; they've been known to give men trouble. Good noble men who were too stupid to know any better."

"I'm smarter than you seem to think, Myreade," Diarmuid stated as a matter of fact. "I can give women just as much trouble."

"But women still dominate in that area," the old seamstress said with a chuckle. "Why else go through all this trouble to buy a dress for your lady?"

Diarmuid smiled and watched as she packed up the fabric and put it upon a high shelf. "I'll have the dress ready within a week."

"That fast? My thanks, Myreade," Diarmuid said and leant down to give the hag a kiss on the cheek. The woman turned in on herself and batted him away. "Oh, be off with you!"

He bid her farewell again and left the shop. He thought about heading to the tavern for a drink, but decided against it; instead he left to grab something to eat. He was in the mood for a Shepard's pie anyways.

Whilst making his way there he had actually run into someone whom he hadn't thought he'd see out and about on a day like this.

"My lady?" There she was, Queen Altria, smiling down at a child offering her a flower of which she gladly accepted. She turned and looked at Diarmuid for a moment before averting her gaze. "Sir Diarmuid, I hadn't known you left the castle."

"That king and his men make it too crowded," Diarmuid jested. "Now these are my people, isn't that right, my queen?"

"Yes, they are," she said with a soft smile before inhaling the scent of the flower.

"I was heading off toward John's pub where he serves the best pies. Do you want to pair up?" Altria smiled and held out her arm. "Escort me forward oh noble knight."

"Well, when a lady puts it like that, I shan't refrain," Diarmuid said with a wink before holding out his elbow and letting Altria take it as the two merrily skipped down the road in idle silliness, like they used to do when they were much younger and the world much bigger and easier. Once they reached the pub and were seated, Diarmuid nudged his queen and continued their fun. "Say, milady, did you know I was knighted whilst having a head injury?" Altria pushed out a giggle and continued to play with her fellow knight. "Oh my, I've heard one doesn't remember things very well when an injury to the head is sustained."

"They don't," Diarmuid replied. "So I'm going to have to trust my Queen's word on it. If she says it happened, then it did."

"Hmm, so there's a chance you could not be a knight!" Altria faked a surprised gasp. Diarmuid chuckled, his shoulders rolling with his laughter before he shook his head. "My queen's a just queen. She doesn't lie to anyone, even her enemies."

"That's some queen," Altria smiled, though the volume of it lessoned as she reverted slowly into herself. "I should think a queen so blessed to be loved by so loyal a knight."

"I do hope she feels that way," Diarmuid said as the server placed down their pies and held out his hand for the coins. Diarmuid dug into his pocket and realized his entire purse was left with the seamstress, Myreade—with good reason of course, the dress took the entire bag of coins to make so he was officially coinless.

"What?" Altria pulled out a playful smile whilst she pulled out her own purse and paid for both pies. "Does this noble knight expect a lady to pay for their meal? Here you go."

"Sorry," Diarmuid said, scratching at his head. "I didn't think I'd used it all."

"What, on ale? How much do you drink?" Altria asked, looking at his gut. "And where do you put it?" She mumbled the last part.

"I don't drink that much!" Diarmuid complained before they settled for just finishing their pies. Altria didn't know what had come over her, but the giggle spat wouldn't stop and now her face was beginning to become hot and change color. "Well, having a lady laugh this hard, I must be doing something right." Diarmuid smiled sweetly at his queen whose eyes sparkled a little with present happiness.

"I'm sure you say that to all your ladies," Altria remarked, raising her brow and pushing her half eaten pie aside. Diarmuid nodded and then rolled his shoulders. "Only when I can tell she's not feeling well."

"Oh, you can tell that much about me? Anything else you're foresight is looking at?"

Diarmuid took a sip from his goblet before placing it down next to his own pie. He continued to stare at the blond for a moment before narrowing his eyes and leaning back in his seat. "You were taking a stroll around the town to clear your mind, weren't you? I can tell you're filled with troubles that you think only you can bear."

"You don't believe there are troubles one must take alone?" Altria asked, her smile vanishing and was now forming into a frown as she laced her fingers together and rested her chin on the backs of her hands. "You're a knight, I'm sure there are troubles pertaining only to a knight compared to that of a simple peasant. I should think the same with a ruler like that of a king."

Diarmuid smiled softly at the woman and, instead of admitting how right the queen was, he asked her this, "But you're a woman, milady. They should be the last to have troubles."

Altria smiled softly and reverted her eyes from the noble knight. "No one's really thought about me as such, I'm afraid."

"Such a shame, you're a beautiful young woman," Diarmuid said truthfully, watching as his beloved queen looked at him sadly, her smile soft and so shallow.

"Again, I'm sure you say that to all the ladies you surround yourself with," Altria said, no giggle or hint of laughter in her tone, she was letting herself fall into depression again.

"Believe what you will, I'm actually very picky on my women," Diarmuid said, leaning back in his seat and offering Altria a wink.

"Oh, really? That's not what I've come to assume."

"Hey, I do not chase after every skirt I see!" Diarmuid defended himself. Altria laughed again and the knight knew that their lighthearted jests eased her mind and helped her forget her day, so they continued on with their little game.

"Then tell me, Sir Knight, what else do you do with these 'special women' besides dine with them on their coin?" Altria smirked and watched her knight cross his arms and shake his head as he chuckled out a laughter. "First," he started. "_I_ would normally pay for the meal, as a gentleman should always do, and then I would buy them a gift in hopes to gain their affection. Afterwards, if the mood is right and she seems to have an interest in me, we would end the night in my bed—or hers, whichever she prefer."

"You best be careful, Sir Knight, I'm a married woman," Altria teased even though the fact she truthfully thought was less appealing.

"Then an affair it is," Diarmuid said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "We shall meet at twilight in a place where your husband won't find us. I'm certain he travels."

"He's home at the moment," Altria replied, her smile gone again when she thought about how her husband and how his presence fouled the castle; one of the reasons why she had to get out of her own home.

"Ah, a shame. Then another time?" Diarmuid continued to smile even though he wanted to show just how bitter he was at the mention of his queen's husband. He knew his queen bettered under a smile and so it was all he could do to show a small comfort in that moment.

"Perhaps," she said as she stood up and wiped her gown of wrinkles. "I shall be honest with you, good Knight, I had a wonderful time here, speaking with you and paying for your meals . . ." "Not going to let that go, I presume," Diarmuid grumbled, rubbing the back of his head as he stood from his chair. Altria smiled and finished her farewell, "But I must be returning home."

"Then, as a last show of chivalry, let me escort you," Diarmuid offered, holding out his arm to the woman. She smiled and crossed her arms. "But, Sir Knight, do you know where I live?" Diarmuid contained his laughter and just smiled. Pulling her hand into his arm he inclined his head toward her saying, "I can take a guess."

* * *

Lancelot watched as his queen returned to her castle, her escort being none other than Diarmuid. The two looked peaceful, laughing about jests and speaking to one another closely. When they reached the front door, he watched as Queen Altria stopped and turned toward Diarmuid, acting as if they were strangers in a strange play. She bid him farewell and he responded in kind as if he had just escorted some damsel he had been wooing. He playfully proclaimed how he'd "sweep her off her feet" in their next outing, but Altria refused to agree and just bid him off as she entered the castle. As she walked down the hall she hadn't seen him against a large pillar and so he moved from her sight and went toward Diarmuid who was busy taking up his spears and preparing to head off to training.

"Diarmuid," Lancelot called out. The younger knight halted and turned toward him. "Lancelot, didn't see you there. Is something the matter?"

"Our queen happens to be married," Lancelot informed. Just at him stating that, he watched a flash of anger appear in Diarmuid's gold eyes, no doubt from the fact to _whom_ their queen was wedded to. "I happened to have been present at the wedding, Lancelot. Besides, we were just playing around. You saw our queen, she could use it."

"Be careful with whom you play this 'game' around," Lancelot warned.

"Oh, do you mean that jester for a king and his men? I can do whatever I like around him, I'm not his knight," Diarmuid remarked dryly.

"No, but you are Altria's," Lancelot said. "So please have some respect for her husband. We may hold no allegiance to him, but our queen does through her marriage with him. Remember that."

Diarmuid said nothing. He just pulled his spears close to his side and walked off, heading toward the training field. Lancelot knew that the knight was smart and knew when to respect their rulers and when not to. But ever since this alliance, he's been torn to act out his objection and to stay in line like any faithful knight. Lancelot wasn't concerned of him embarrassing their queen; he was just concerned he might attack the golden king, King Gilgamesh. If he did, the alliance could be cut. Queen Altria knew what she was doing, Lancelot had to believe so . . . and so did Diarmuid.

* * *

"My Queen, your mind seems to have eased," Altria's lady in waiting noted upon her Queen's return to her chambers. Altria only nodded her head with a small smile. "Could you draw me a bath?" "Right away, milady."

Altria sat upon her bed and unfastened her dress, she listened to her maid pour hot water in the basin and smiled when her maid drew near and touched her with cleansing cloth. It felt nice upon her skin and her body relaxed.

"It's good to see you at ease, my lady," her maid said. "Do I really look that at ease?" Altria asked, when her maid nodded she baffled herself. "I hadn't thought my cares could slip away so easily."

"That walk did you well, more so than usual," Her maid noted. "Did you do anything special?" Altria chuckled when asked this. Of course she had. "Well, I had run into this dashing knight who insisted on taking me to a place to eat. I ended up having to buy his meal as well as mine." Altria couldn't contain her laughter at the thought of how ungentlemanly that was for a so-called knight, but the mere notion is what made it enjoyable and thus she couldn't control herself.

"My queen, I have not heard you laugh this hard since before the threat of the black fleet," her lady in waiting said, watching her queen wipe tears away from her eyes. "Does my heart good to hear those volumes."

"I don't care what predicament you're in, if Diarmuid insisted on taking you out with no hopes of offering payment for an enjoyable time spent then the shameful look on his face is just too much," Altria said, still trying to stifle her laughter.

"I had a feeling it was Sir Diarmuid by the way you spoke of him," her lady said as she began combing down Altria's hair and preparing it in a bonnet for slumber. "He's got a heart of gold, that one." Altria nodded in agreement and remembered how her lady in waiting—along with the rest—had a fancy to her knight, Diarmuid, as did most ladies in her kingdom. It could be for that reason alone; his earnest attempt to make sure a woman bears no worries.

"Frankly speaking, my lady," the maid spoke up just as she finished tightening Altria's hair into place. "Though many a woman in the kingdom would have had their hearts shattered and souls upset, they would have rather you wed Diarmuid than that foreign king."

Altria halted for a moment and reached back to touch her maid's hand once she had finished with her hair. Turning to look at her curiously, Altria asked, "Would you, yourself, have preferred that?"

"Aye," she said with a sigh and nod as she climbed off her queen's bed and came toward her feet to fit her cold toes with slippers. "This land would be much happier. I believe that with all my heart."

"King Gilgamesh will eventually leave this land," Altria assured. Just by saying the king's name a frown automatically formed on her face. "He has given me his word."

"We all don't know the date of his departure, milady," her maid replied. "So his words, whatever they be, mean nothing to us."

"Thank you, Gendella, for your voice. I do listen to my people, despite all that is being said now, I do." Altria swore to this with all her heart and in this her maid took both her cold hands and warmed them with her own. "At ease, my lady. Set your mind away from what you hear or what you see and tell me more about your outing with Sir Diarmuid."

Gendella knew Altria speaking about thinks like this got her mind away from the real issues at present and so, for a night Altria relived her outing in the town with that dashing knight.

* * *

"A gift for being a beautiful woman." Altria looked down from where she sat and toward her knight, knelt down before her with wrapped gift in hand. She smiled affectionately and gladly took it from him.

"Now what could this be, hm?"

Diarmuid simply smiled and moved himself so that he could sit next to her on the bench where she seated herself. "Just open it."

With a nod, Altria took to unwrapping the paper, of course she took her time untying the jute wrapped around it and then aimlessly unfolding the paper without tearing it. Diarmuid let out a loud sigh so that she would look at him and notice the annoyance upon his face. "You don't have to be so gentle. The paper is meant to be ripped."

"I'm a lady who likes to take her time," Altria simply replied whilst sticking her nose in the air and continuing her task. The moment she unfolded the paper to reveal a peek inside, she forgot all about the ease of folding the paper and simply pushed it apart and let it fall to the ground. "Oh, Diarmuid . . . you shouldn't have."

"I made you a promise, my Queen," Diarmuid said, a smile on his face as he watched his queen stand to her feet and press the gown against her body. She took hold of the train of the dress and swung it around. No matter how much a woman wished to become a man . . . women and gowns seemed to go hand in hand like ale in a goblet.

"It's beautiful," Altria admired, looking down at the deep blue dress and the pure white silk underneath. She even took note of the golden needlework laced into the edges of the cuffs and the train and often at the seams of the dress to make sure it gained attention from every onlooker. "Honestly, you didn't have to."

"When Diarmuid Ua Duibhne makes a promise, he follows it through, such is the chivalry of a knight," Diarmuid replied, placing his hand over his heart in fealty.

"I don't know what to say," Altria said with a smile as she ran her fingers over the fabric of the dress.

"Just say you'll wear it," Diarmuid asked.

"Of course I will. Since it is a gift," Altria informed.

Raising a thin brow Diarmuid then found it appropiate to ask,"Oh . . . so if I bore you a gift of a boar's head around a rope, would you wear it?"

The Queen's lips pulled thin and taught. Her eyes narrowed and it took only a moment before the knight leaned over himself and slapped his knees in a fit of laughter. "I'm just jesting. I know your meaning. But you don't have to come off as high and noble all the time. You can outright say you like it . . . or outright say you hate it for that matter."

"I adore it," Altria answered honestly, continuing to hold the gown against herself. "May I ask the price of such a gift?"

"No you may not," Diarmuid simply replied. Altria always did this and he'd rather her not know it cost him his entire purse, and then some. "Just enjoy it, that's all I ask." Altria nodded. "I will, you can be sure of that."

The first time Diarmuid had seen her in the dress he had bought for her was at a banquet. They were celebrating a successful defense of an eastern docking post thanks to King Gilgamesh's fleet and so when the king offered his cooks prepare food accustomed in his homeland, he had invited his wife and her knights and the nobles of the land. It had seemed that everyone took notice to Queen Altria that evening in her new gown, including her husband.

"My, don't you look beautiful tonight," King Gilgamesh commented as his wife took seat next to him at the banquet table. "A new gown just for tonight? I'm flattered."

"Think nothing of it," Altria said, not even paying mind to look toward the king as she spoke to him, "this was a gift from my subjects."

"So you accept their gifts of clothing and jewelry and not mine?" Gilgamesh smiled sharply at the queen who did not reply for a while until saying, "I have accepted your gifts and it is up to I if I so wish to wear the garments or not."

"Very well, I see," Gilgamesh said, letting out a sigh and shaking his head. "You're a stubborn woman, Queen Altria. Ideal for ruling, might I add."

The queen said nothing more. The banquet went on and was provided by the king's musicians. That night, everyone invited had received a taste of Gilgamesh's country and it was enjoyable. He had bestowed gifts to the nobles and to his wife's knights he gifted them each with a golden weapon. Each in their own thanked him and moved on. After the night was through and the guests went and traveled home, Gilgamesh took his wife aside and told her of his findings at the eastern docking post.

"The captain of my fleet may have found where the black fleet originates," Gilgamesh informed.

"Is it from the eastern lands?" Altria asked. Gilgamesh nodded. "He took a small vessel and sailed there himself. He informed me that they are building more ships and the number of their men abroad vary with each ship, depending on size. If they were to step foot aground, it may be hard to cut their numbers down."

"My knights and I have faced hordes of armies before. This land is well defended should we get the chance to march on land with weapons in hand," Altria assured. "But severing great deals of their numbers is very helpful. What do you suggest?"

"Since they seem to know about my fleet now, I'm not too sure if they'll attack me straight on. A fool would and so I assume they'll be looking for a way around. I'm going to return my ships to the south and let them destroy a few posts before they decide that it is time to come ashore. After they empty half of their vessels I will send my ships back and destroy their remaining crafts. I can trust you to take care of the ones already afoot?"

While Queen Altria didn't like the idea of losing more docking posts, nor having to evacuate the towns and villages along the coast, if it meant finally destroying the black fleet then she would gladly rebuild whatever damage was wrought. Looking to the king she nodded in agreement.

"We shall do as you plan, and don't worry . . . my knights and I shall have the rest of their army destroyed within a matter of minutes. It's time their terror on this isle ended."

* * *

"Is he certain this will work?" Gawain asked, looking toward his queen who had gathered her knights together to discuss their plan of action. Queen Altria closed her eyes for a moment before looking at her men with bright and determined green eyes. "It's all we have. I believe this will work and so I ask you to follow me into battle once more."

"There is no need to ask, Queen Altria," Lancelot spoke up. "We'll follow your regardless."

Altria smiled and thanked every one of her knights. "Now," she said. "Gather you men amongst yourself and choose the strongest. Have them await us at the appointed docking post. We shall be needing an army of knights for this."

"We will be ready within the week," Lancelot informed. "At your call we shall come."

"Very well." Altria then tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword and decided to speak her concern. "I have lost many a knight and we have lost many a friend to these heathens. I do not wish to lose anymore and I fear that my wish will go unheard by God. So I am asking, no," her grip was so tight on the hilt of her sword that you could literally hear the crunching of her steel gauntlets, "I am begging you to be wary on the battlefield so that your life is not lost. I treasure each of you as a dear brother and I know I am loved from your hearts." With that she smiled and shared a glance with Diarmuid who smiled just as softly back. "So, as your Queen demands it, do not lose your life upon this battlefield. I cannot accept any more deaths."

"My Queen!" All her knights shouted, falling to their knees and pounding their steel chests with their fists. She smiled once again at them all and prayed every second that God would hear her plea.

This was one of Queen Altria's main troubles . . . losing a knight. No other warrior could understand the feeling their rulers have when they lose that loyal servant, whether it be to a disease or to a mortal wound sustained in a battle. She felt as if a piece of her soul was being torn out and she didn't have much left with the remaining numbers of her knights.

Altria always has great confidence in her knights because she knew they were the best warriors in the land, but when faced with other warriors from distant lands, one could never be sure of their fighting customs, and with these barbarians she has heard their numbers are great and so she needed King Gilgamesh and his armies and ships to help them win this fight and set this land in peace once more.

Altria would gladly sacrifice her own internal peace for the outward peace of her land and people. She didn't ask for her people to agree with her decision, she just asked them to understand that she is their ruler and thus her word is the end.

The day they took up steed and would ride north was a solemn and quiet day. Altria came out to meet her men, armor coating her breast and arms and the sides of her hips. She mounted her horse and waited for her men to join her at the gate. One arrived first, Lancelot, sword strapped to his side and his long hair tied back for the helmet he then carried under his arm to rest upon.

"Good to see you this morning, Sir Lancelot," Altria said, looking at her knight who turned his horse in the same face as hers to wait for the others.

"Tis good to be beside my queen," Lancelot responded as he sat his helmet near the front of his saddle. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Not too long," Altria lied before watching another knight ride up. "Greetings, Sir Gawain." The man smiled and held up his armored arm before falling in line next to his queen and fellow knight.

"My Queen. Lancelot," the knight said, inclining his head toward the two. "I'm sure the other knights will be here soon. They've all prepared themselves for this battle last night."

So in silence they waited for the others, and sure enough the knights came, one by one until Altria was looking at her remaining knights. After scanning into each of their eyes for their readiness, she smiled and saw no doubt.

"Where is Sir Diarmuid?" Altria asked, turning back around to only find the street barren of any journeyers in so early the morning.

"We haven't seen him since last evening. We assumed he went to train as we all did," her knights replied.

"We have to leave soon to keep in time with King Gilgamesh's ships," Gawain stated. "He knows this. He shouldn't be late."

"He must come," another knight said. "It is disloyalty if he will not ride with us into battle."

"What do you wish to do, Queen Altria?" Lancelot asked, letting their ruler decide.

Altria remained quiet for a moment before looking up and watching the sun rise higher. "Let us be off." She said no more and just turned her horse to walk out onto the long road ahead. The rest of her knights silenced themselves and followed as well. A few left last glances toward their homes but nothing more, they followed their queen and headed north to meet up with their selected men each knight had chosen for this upcoming battle to fight alongside.

While journeying there Altria looked around toward the rolling hills of green and smiled. This was what she was fighting for, for the peaceful mornings and the soaring of the fowls in the sky and for the people, both young and old, both dead and not yet born. Even so, once they've defeated these heathens, Altria would have to give herself to the golden king and give the first fruit of her womb. It seemed like this was all easy—the clashing of swords and the thought of a possible death—compared to what she will have to deal with once this is all over.

"HEY!" Suddenly a loud cheer broke out and Altria, lifted from her thoughtful trance, raised her head and watched with late astonishment as her missing knight came riding up to their company, at first racing his horse around them and just as he had he looked toward them, a smile on his lips and then he held up his spear. More cheers of "HEY!" broke out and Altria found herself smiling.

The dark-haired knight slowed his horse to a trot and pulled up alongside Lancelot. The knight was staring at him, as were Altria and Gawain who were near him. "It took you long enough, Diarmuid."

"Didn't think I'd deserted did you?" He asked before turning toward his queen and offered a wink. "Wouldn't dream of doing that to the one I swore my life to."

The soft look in Altria's eyes and the gentle smile upon her lips was enough for Diarmuid to not regret arriving late. If only to see her smile like that forever, then he would be able to leave this life happy and fulfilled.

Turning his frame toward the road ahead and leaning his spear on his shoulder, Diarmuid asked, "You women ready to meet your maker?"

"We will not fall on the battlefield!" A few knights erupted in offense. "It'll be you who needs the healers after tripping over a stone!"

"No one shall fall this day!" Queen Altria called out, silencing the jesting quarrels of her knights. "Clear your heads of any jests or foolishness will ensnare you!"

Diarmuid's smile vanished and he knew his queen was right. Every time, right before a battle she would have them clear their heads because of how easy it was to lose oneself in thoughts other than on fighting their enemy. Many a knight had died previously because of this fault. So the rest of their ride remained in silence until they arrived at the shore where the battle would take place.

"My queen!" Altria's warriors called out as they ran up to her and the knights, taking their reins and allowing them to dismount. "King Gilgamesh has already arrived. His golden fleet is aligning the coast. You can see the vessels from affair."

It was true; you could see the small outlines of the ships, each slowly riding the waves of the sea and patrolling their appointed route. Closer now, on land, Altria could see the bright red tent of which Gilgamesh had erected. She motioned for two of her knights to follow, Lancelot and Diarmuid, and so she marched toward the tent and entered it.

Sure enough, the golden king was there, full body armor, surrounded by many of his men. He turned upon hearing the tent door open and smiled as he looked at the queen. "Queen Altria," he greeted with open arms, one goblet of wine in one hand. "Why, don't you look ready for battle."

"Have your ships seen any sign of the black fleet?" Altria immediately asked, knowing idle chitchat was for the worst. Gilgamesh let out a small chuckle before he turned to place his drink down. When he turned toward her again he was about to speak before he looked at her two knights standing tall behind her—honestly, the two tall men made her seem like a dwarf. "You have a guard now. No more private meetings between rulers?"

"A battle is about to commence, so nothing needs to remain hidden," Altria said. "And you certainly are not alone either." Altria spared an unpleasant look toward Gilgamesh's men behind him, all staring at her two knights like they were the scum of the earth. What gave them a right to think themselves so highly when their rank remained the same? Altria was annoyed by the looks but could speak nothing on them seeing how war was upon them and so she turned her gaze back toward Gilgamesh and awaited his answer.

"Very well," he said with a smile. "The black fleet is closing in and just as they do I shall have my ships engage them in battle, granted a fake battle. I shall make it look as if my fleet is losing—a few ships lost here and there should suffice . . ."

"You would sacrifice your own men for this victory?" Altria asked, her eyes wide with astonishment.

"One cannot save everyone in war, my dear wife," King Gilgamesh remarked while glancing back at the two knights who seemed displeased with how he addressed their queen. "A minor loss well worth the sacrifice. Once they chase us I will have my other fleet waiting further north come in and surround them. Then I will have them rip their ships apart, only leaving an opening to the shore. There I will trust you and your army to slaughter the rest of the pigs."

"Very well, I shall inform my men about the plan," Altria said, turning around and preparing to exit the tent.

"Be careful on the battlefield, Queen. I shall be in need of your assistance afterward," Gilgamesh reminded and drunk in the reactions he got from her knights, especially the younger one who turned and about swung his spear at him. The one named Lancelot had stopped him and held him back, and of course Altria said nor did anything. She simply continued her way and left with her men.

"Why must you put up with him?" Diarmuid asked his queen as they walked back toward their army. "It is clear he cares nothing for you!"

"I feel nothing for him as well, Diarmuid," Altria spoke, her voice low as she stopped some yards before their army's encampment. "I am simply upholding an alliance."

With that she marched forward. Lancelot and Diarmuid were about to follow, but the older knight took hold of the younger and spoke to him saying, "You cannot begin to understand the hardships of a ruler. None of us can so do not question her." With those words of wisdom, Lancelot caught up to their queen's heels and Diarmuid soon followed, keeping most of his thoughts to himself.

The entire day as they prepared for the upcoming battle it had seemed it may not even be today, but as a watcher came running up, declaring that Gilgamesh's fleet and the black fleet were seen in battle, Altria rallied her men and spoke a few words before the battle.

"As we speak our ally, King Gilgamesh, and his fleet are battling this ghost fleet that has threatened us with destruction for near a year. This black fleet has taken away many a life and made our lives still on earth one of darkness and dread. No more will our families and friends have to hide away in the hills. They can enjoy their homes once lost upon the shores. We will make this isle full of peace once more and that means from the rolling hills to the forests and to the shores.

"I, your Queen Altria, shall take up sword and fight alongside you, my brothers. And together we shall slay these demons and return their damned souls to Hell where they whence came! They shall fall under us, my warriors and be liken to a dream. Their memory upon this land shall fade and we, ourselves, will make it so!"

Her men raised their weapons and let out loud battle cries and as she turned around she watched as the fleet became encircled just as Gilgamesh had predicted. They were closing in on the shore and soon they would send forth their murders. Altria would have none of that and so with her men at her side she held her sword high.

"Let us meet these cursed beings with steel and armor. With shield and loud cries will we take their lives and free our land! My men, let me lead you to victory!"

With another shout, her men thrust their weapons toward the skies and asked the Lord above to bless their blades and their shields and their armor, that they may not fail them and that death's embrace come not near them. Altria's eyes focused in on the black figures exiting the ships and polluting her shores. With her sword against her chest she swung it low and then ran forward, her men, all brave and strong, following behind her with weapons held high.

The battle had started.

On and on, these crippled ships spewed forth countless of demons, even the ships already sunken had brought forth their rats that swam ashore to join their fellow brothers to clash blade with Altria's army. Their skill in battle was nothing to their skill at sea and so their fighting wasn't so stressed as she had believed, but their numbers were becoming overwhelming so much that the shore was blotched black and Altria had no choice but to force her men to fall back to higher ground.

"They just keep coming!" Diarmuid shouted out, swinging his spears around and managing to slice the necks neatly in half of two warriors before bringing them back to himself and smiting a third to the ground.

"Are you complaining?" Gawain asked, using his long sword to maim limbs off and let the screaming carcasses bleed themselves into the afterlife.

"Me? Never," Diarmuid answered while dunking low to dodge a narrow strike and thrust his short spear all the way through a warrior's gut.

The two knights had been the only knights caught so deeply into the enemy army and when Queen Altria called forth the order to fall back onto the higher ground, they had the hardest time to obey it. The two struggled against the enemies around them who seemed to understand that they were now the only two warriors fighting them in the black mass of soldiers. The two managed to fight their way closer toward the other, back against back so that no enemy might overwhelm them suddenly.

With a quick glance upward, Gawain noticed that their army had made it toward the hill and were now chopping down any enemy foolish enough to climb after them. "Well they can certainly handle themselves, but can we?"

In the midst of their fighting, they had not had the time to notice how the rest of their brothers in arms had seen their struggle, and their queen . . . the moment the woman looked down and saw two of her knights still battling on shore, in distress that their lives would be taken from them soon, she forgot about her strategies and immediately ran forth, down the hill, swinging her sword and trampling over anyone who came against her. Beside her she saw the form of Lancelot and a few other knights who took up weapon and followed their queen down into the swarm to save the two knights down in the lion's den.

No words were spoken nor any orders given as to what to do or where to strike in order to free the two, it was a simple blind attack to rescue their comrades. It was reckless beyond belief, but the want of saving was so strong in Queen Altria that she and her men seemed to be given strength from the host of Angels. For a woman, she was one of the strongest warriors on that battlefield if not the most deadly. The way she struck down the enemy and in such a number was thought near impossible for someone of her gender.

"It's Queen Altria!" Gawain called out, both knights turned to see a straight line being cut by their queen and fellow knights in an attempt to save them.

Diarmuid nodded toward Gawain. "Let's make this a two sided effort." In equal agreement the two took up their weapons and brought them down at the same time in one direction. After that they turned in duel time and struck those coming in from behind and to the side and then they repeated their attack plan. This helped them work their way to their queen and fellow knights. When she was in sight they detached themselves from the safety of the other's back.

Gawain slew a man and as the warrior fell to his feet, the knight smiled as he could reach out and physically touch his queen's small but strong hand. With her smiling back at him with so much pride in her knights, she pulled the knight forward and jerked him behind her into the circle the other knights that followed her into this blind attack had made. When she reached for Diarmuid, a black soldier brought down a knife and embedded it into the steel of her gauntlet so hard that it fell off, cutting her wrist and severing a tendon.

Altria gasped out and dropped her sword once the injury was inflicted. Lancelot, by her side, was quick to pull the woman back and force her behind him as he fought off the soldiers and slew the one who harmed his queen. Diarmuid only seemed to get pushed away deeper into the pit he had recently fought his way out of, but once he saw how red stained his queen's sleeve was he was enraged. The sight of her blood spilled set his spirit afire and he swung his spears around to clear a path for himself before he brought down his blade upon three at once. Their bodies fell against the other and he climbed atop their fallen frames and leapt high into the air, coming down upon five warriors who were currently overpowering Lancelot, the knight himself had already received a blow to the head and his stance was staggering.

As Diarmuid fell upon the five and pressed them down with his weight, he was successful in crushing two of their skulls against rocks underfoot. As he stood up his griped his spear, swung it around and stabbed a soldier bringing his sword down upon him, the other fell before any harm was inflicted upon Diarmuid. Lancelot looked down at him and offered him a hand but his balanced feigned and he fell backwards.

Queen Altria was quick to catch her falling knight, Lancelot fell into her arms and she struggled to help him down without falling completely under his full weight. The moment his body touched ground she looked up at Diarmuid who looked on in great concern. He held out his hand to the knight and Lancelot reached out to take his hand and be lifted from his queen's embrace.

Altria's mind stopped working all together once something hot struck her in the face. She hadn't even had time to comprehend that it had sprayed all over her face and armor. Her wide green eyes stared on horrified as Diarmuid stood before her with a blade sticking out of his abdomen.

Diarmuid himself looked shocked, his hand, once outstretched to help Lancelot up now retracted and pressed against the blade as if unsure of how it got there. Everything seemed so strange as Altria stared up at Diarmuid and time seemed to slow and the enemies around just seemed as if they weren't there. Of course this moment of realization didn't last long once another blade appeared, this time in Diarmuid's torso.

The knight's eyes widened in shock once the pain shot through his body. He coughed once and blood spewed out as he fell forward.

"DIARMUID!" Altria cried out. Cold fast fear struck her and her joints moved as if by some outer body power pressed her forward. She had moved herself from under Lancelot, taken up her sword in her right unwounded hand, and jumped forward striking down the ones who had planted their blades into her first knight. The queen was in such a rage that she hadn't known the warriors around her had begun falling away in fear of her raging spirit.

But as they fled from her face and sought to climb uphill, the blonde chased them, carrying her sword with one hand. She had never ran so fast in her life, nor had she ever fought while holding her sword with one arm. Her adrenaline peaked its highest this moment and in that moment she had struck down so many enemy warriors that none could count.

So focused on killing any of the black warriors she had not taken the time to see her army charging down from the hills once more and forcing the enemy back into the waters to drown or be skewered. Instead she froze and stood there, the aches of her body catching up with her and soon, the weight of her sword became too much and she dropped it to the bloodstained sand. Her breaths became ragged and her wound upon her arm began to throb and sting.

She turned once her mind remembered the fallen and saw that behind her was her circle of knights, free of the enemies surrounding them before but the circle remained as they crowded around a fallen brother.

"Diarmuid," Altria whispered, before her aching legs began to run faster and faster until she thrust herself through the circle of knights just in time to watch the dark-haired knight spit up more blood onto the breastplate of his armor. Lancelot was holding the younger knight and wiping the blood and dirt off of the man's face. Queen Altria approached them softly, and quietly, unsure of how to assess the situation. She whispered the knight's name once more before her eyes began to sting unbearably. She closed her eyes and then tossed herself beside the fallen knight in a desperate cry of his name. "Diarmuid!"

"My queen," Lancelot spoke, looking at her with eyes full of hurt and hope lost. Bowing his head he looked down at the wound he was holding onto. Altria looked down and in amazement saw all the hands of those surrounding upon the two wounds Diarmuid had received. Each knight around had placed a hand on the man and those that couldn't reach simply touched one who could. Each of their faces held the concern of a loved one and Altria knew he was just as special to them as he was to her.

Diarmuid was her first knight and became a short term mentor to those following knights, no matter their age. Altria couldn't lose him. She couldn't.

"Lift him," Altria ordered, standing to her feet and looking atop the hill. "Carry him to camp and send him to the healers."

In that moment, her knights hesitated on her orders. She hadn't understood why and when she looked down at the sand underneath her metal clad feet she noticed how darkening it was becoming. A crimson in color and that color was coming from Diarmuid.

"We won't make it in time," Lancelot explained. The other knights, though not wanting to lose their longtime friend, knew this as well and remained their hands upon him. "Place your hand upon him, Altria . . . do it."

"No," Altria denied, shaking her head in defiance. "Lift him and take him to the healers!"

"Place your hand upon him!" Lancelot ordered the shaken girl. Altria froze and looked her knight in the eye. His eyes were worn and full of bitterness and sorrow. She closed her eyes and then came closer, dropping to her knees and reaching out to the knight. With her right hand she would have touched him, but instead she pulled her armor covered hand back and brought up her injured bare hand.

Her twitching fingers touched the dirty cheek of the knight, her skin, though marred, could feel the texture of the man's face she was touching and she leaned in close, watching and shaking as she watched blood fall down past Diarmuid's eyelids.

"No, no Diarmuid," Altria wept. "We've got to get you to the healers."

"He can't hear us anymore," Lancelot said, his voice trembling as he held the bleeding body in his arms. "He lost consciousness while the army drove the enemy back into the sea."

Queen Altria bit her bottom lip and looked back at Diarmuid. Such a handsome face he always had and he always wore it well, no matter the situation; in the battlefield, when he courts a lovely lady, when he was in his queen's presence. He couldn't leave this world right now, it was too soon.

"That was quite foolish of you, young Queen; to go running off aimlessly into battle. What, to rescue two mere knights?" The mere presence of King Gilgamesh had been so sickening that Altria felt a faint. Lancelot and the other knights forced themselves to keep their hands upon Diarmuid less they should reach for their weapons and end this king's life.

"Oh?" King Gilgamesh peered through the circle of knights and saw that one of the knights had fallen; this particular knight had been close to his wife Queen. He had seen him at her side often. "I suppose you only managed to save one."

"Shut your mouth!" Gawain couldn't take it and so rose to his feet, his eyes red with tears and his fists balled into shaking fists as he stared down the golden king. Gilgamesh merely waved off the knight who dared order him and walked toward Queen Altria. He stood behind her and watched her closely, especially how she touched this knight.

"Has he gone from this world yet?" Gilgamesh inquired, not the least concerned for this young valiant warrior's life.

"His name is Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, the first knight of my kingdom," Queen Altria spoke, her voice trembling along with her limbs. "He was the first man to acknowledge my sovereignty and the first to count me as a challengeable warrior. He never dismissed my gender or cursed my birth, but served me faithfully even into my marriage with a king he so despised." Altria turned toward Gilgamesh, surprising the king by the show of emotion all over her face. Her green eyes were full of sorrow and her tears fell like waterfalls, she couldn't stop crying. Her teeth were clenched tight, to keep the wails from escaping her shaking voice. "Your presence is not needed here at this time, King Gilgamesh."

"I am a king," Gilgamesh informed. "None commands me but God."

Altria's small body shook and the more it did, the more her tears fell. The moment she released a wail she pressed her hands against her face and tried her best to cover herself and muffle her sobs from the sight of this golden king. Gilgamesh did not turn from her though, he just watched her, almost as if he were enjoying this side of her.

Turning his head back toward his men who followed him he smiled down at Altria, his eyes glancing at the dying Knight before saying, "I have personal healers that stay by my side during battle—"

At the sound of that, Altria looked up at Gilgamesh, her tears stopping for a moment before she leaned forward, pressing her fingers into the bloodied sand. "Please! I beg of you, King Gilgamesh, that you let them attend my knight's wounds!"

Gilgamesh smiled sadly and shook his head. "Alas, they are my healers and sworn only to attend my injuries."

"Please, I cannot lose him!" Altria begged once more, something so uncommon for her as a queen.

Gilgamesh looked at his two healers who remained where they stood. When he looked back at Queen Altria she had remained where she sat, practically bowing, clenching her teeth and trying her hardest to keep those little tears of hers from falling out. He watched as she bowed her head and let a shadow cast over her face. Now it truly looked as if she were bowing to him.

"I'll give you my kingdom!"

"My Queen!" Gawain gasped out, along with a few other knights whose eyes widened so large that it looked as if they were about to run up to their queen and pull here away so that she may not exclaim such a thing.

King Gilgamesh stood there in silence, watching for any sign that this Queen Altria would take back the words of which she had spoken. Her body shook more violently, but she remained still where she sat, head practically pressing into the sand. Her voice shaking and sobbing.

"Please!"

Gilgamesh let a smile turn his lips and with a jerk of his head, his two healers walked over to the circle of knights. They waved their hands at them to depart, but most of the knights were reluctant to let go of Diarmuid. Queen Altria had turned and watched the healers attempt to come close to Diarmuid and when the knights finally moved away and Lancelot placed him upon the ground the two unfolded their packets of which they carried and immediately began rubbing Diarmuid's wounds with ointments before moving on to seal them.

Gilgamesh went to turn and leave with the rest of his men, back to his tent, but Altria reached forth and took hold of the gold king's scarlet sash.

"Until your death shall you reign over this kingdom," Altria added. "Afterwards, this land and people shall suffer no more of your bloodline. Thus I swear this kingdom to you and thus must you swear this."

"Very well," Gilgamesh said as he turned and knelt down toward the queen stained in filth. He took a hold of her chin in his fingers and forced her eyes to look upon his. "But two heirs instead will you bear. The firstborn will be mine and the second born you may have to do with as you wish and claim as yours."

With that he let go of Altria and stood, wiping his hand of the grime from when he touched the queen. Turning around he motioned for his men to follow him as he returned to the tent. Altria just sat there, weeping bitterly and when she turned toward the healers attending Diarmuid she clasped her hands together and bowed her head once more.

"Lord of Heaven and commander of Angels, do not take my knight from me. This I pray. This I pray."

With her eyes closed, she had not seen her knights join her in prayer, in fact she hadn't seen much with her eyes closed and that was fine with her because she knew that when she opened them the world would be different and she . . . Altria Pendragon, would no longer be Queen of Britain.


	3. A Knight's Heart is only for His Queen

**TheThirdTime'sACharm: As I've stated before, this is really written out like a giant oneshot, hence the fast pace of this story. But thanks again for all the comments. I hope you guys will continue to like and read!**

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The kingdom had never been more appalled than the day a foreign king took seat upon the throne of their ruler. The counsel and nobles watched on in great displeasure as King Gilgamesh claimed the throne as his, that triumphant smile on his face ever present as of late. But Altria, she had kept her emotions and thoughts buried deep with her heart so not to harm her people more.

"What's with that look, wife?" Gilgamesh asked, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned against the armrest of the throne. "Over taken with sadness at the loss of your reign?"

"I haven't lost it, King Gilgamesh," Altria spoke, bowing her head to the newly appointed king of the land. "I have given it."

"That's right," Gilgamesh said, a small chuckle in his tone. "But you still have nothing to fear. The title of queen was not stripped away from you as you assume. You are my wife and thus my queen. Your subjects may still refer to you as Queen Altria as they have always done."

Altria said nothing on the fact that her title remained was because she was under King Gilgamesh's title. No longer was she his equal as a ruler. No, the title of wife was much different than the title of a ruler. So she merely bowed before him, her once counselors and nobles doing the same before she turned and exited the throne room.

King Gilgamesh, after becoming rightful king per say the land's queen, began taking his men from his ships and setting up his army within the cities and towns of the land. The castle as of now housed a number of his men, especially his guard and healers and generals. The lay of the land began baring colors of richer reds than royal blues.

The knights hadn't taken a liking to this at all, but still respected their queen's decision. When they arrived before the new king they had respectfully bowed to one knee and asked something of him.

"You want me to let you remain the _queen's_ knights?" Gilgamesh asked with a raised brow. "Surely that would lower your status to just guards instead of knights. You all are brave warriors who should only stand in rank next to the sovereign of the land."

"It was Queen Altria who knighted us and it was Queen Altria whom we swore our weapons and lives to," Lancelot spoke for the entire lot before the king. "If it means striping our titles to mere guards of the queen then we are happy."

There was a silence throughout the hall before Gilgamesh's intelligent eyes glowed. "Tell me, you aren't asking this of me simply because you refuse to become my knights, are you?"

The knights simply stated once more, "We were sworn as the Queen's knights until the day we depart from this world."

Gilgamesh nodded. He received his answer. With a wave of his ring laden hand he sent them away. "Very well, you shall no longer be the knights you once were, but the guard of my wife, Queen Altria. You are dismissed, guard."

One would think that a stripping of the title of a knight was hard, but Altria's knights hadn't cared, as long as they were allowed to remain true to the one they swore loyalty to. If a mere guard they were reduced to then they would live the remainder of their lives in ease knowing that their oath was allowed to be upheld. When all Altria found out about what her knights had done, she couldn't help but feel pride for them . . . and sorrowfulness.

She knew those warriors were stronger and far greater than any King Gilgamesh had within his army and that they deserved the title of knight as well as the privileges it received. Now, their own men they had trained under them and they could call their army or even clan, had been taken away and merged within Gilgamesh's army like the rest of the isle had. A mere guard was no worthy title for Altria's knights.

But she knew she could not persuade them to change their minds. She knew her men that well and if they chose to follow her into Hell then they would gladly give up their salvation of Heaven to do so.

It had been near to three weeks since the battle upon the shores and the defeat of the black fleet. Their land was in peace again, but the turmoil of the people's hearts has just begun and so has the queen's. Altria stood outside of the room where the healers had placed Diarmuid. The knight had broken into a fever after receiving proper healing from Gilgamesh's nurses, and he had almost faded into the afterlife once more.

After days of hard work from the healers the fever broke and Diarmuid had been set in a peaceful resting. His consciousness had only recently come about and even then he was too weak to make out any meaning of anything that was being told to him—of his wounds, of Queen Altria giving up reign, of Gilgamesh seizing the land, of the status of his fellow brothers falling to mere guard. Nothing he comprehended until his mind healed and caught up to his body.

Now, as the third week had pressed its way into life, the young man had recovered quite well. The healers still bid him to stay in bed, but his fiery spirit returned to him and refused to listen to the healers, no matter how weak his body still remained.

"I won't drink that again! Get it away from me!" A loud crash was heard through the large wooden doors and Altria smiled softly, hearing the clattering and the healer's bumbling words was enough to know that her first knight was healthy once more and would recover just fine. She and the other knights had all visited him and kept him close to their hearts and in their prayers. God had listened this once and answered their prayers.

"My thanks to you, King Gilgamesh, for lending your personal healers and saving my knight," Altria said upon hearing the man walk up beside her. Gilgamesh simply smiled and rolled his shoulders. "I repay in kind when something is given to me," he stated. "What kind of a king would I be if the subjects of this land I neglected?"

Altria stayed her words and simply stood there, listening to the commotion coming from behind those doors. Gilgamesh pressed his hand to her back in a bidding motion. "Why don't you go and see him, hm? You have not looked upon your servant's face since he retained consciousness."

"I do not wish to see him now since his understanding has returned," Altria said, turning herself and leaving down the halls, possibly to return to her rooms and the comfort of her ladies in waiting.

Gilgamesh simply snickered at her reaction and shook his head. "Of all the troubles of the world, Queen Altria . . . you wish to bear the worst?" With that said Gilgamesh pushed open the door and saw his two personal healers struggling to save what medicine they could as Diarmuid, whom still laid in bed, tossed cups, water basins, and pitchers at the two in an attempt to keep them at bay.

"It would seem you have healed well. All thanks to my healers, Diarmuid, so I suggest you let their working remedy continue if you wish to return to your strongest state," Gilgamesh spoke, watching the young knight whip his head 'round and stare at him with a hatred in his eyes before he averted his gaze and eased himself back into his bed, holding closely at his still healing wounds.

King Gilgamesh loved all of the reactions he was seeing from the young man. In fact, he was enjoying all the emotional conflict he was seeing in the entire kingdom. Watching the subjects receive a new king was fun and exciting, especially the once knights, their reactions to the change was the most entertaining.

"My wife was here but a moment ago." That seemed to spur the dark-haired man. He was quick to look at Gilgamesh, his eyes wide. "But she left saying that she could no longer bear to see you."

"My queen," Diarmuid whispered as he glanced down, his face showing all the workings of sorrow and regret.

"In fact, just this morning the knights, your brothers, came to me and asked to be stripped of their titles," Gilgamesh informed, walking around the bed of the wounded warrior. Just tormenting him with all this news at once was entertainment enough.

"What . . . has become of my brethren?" Diarmuid asked, looking at the king with concern. Gilgamesh only rolled his shoulders and waved his hand. "They were cast as my wife's guard, saying they didn't care about their titles any longer, just the protection of Queen Altria."

"May I ask permission to join them?"

Gilgamesh smiled. "Are you sure?" The King asked. "The guard of a queen especially never sees the fires of battle again. They will no longer dream of the heroic death upon the battlefield."

"I don't care," Diarmuid persisted. "I would gladly give up the valiant death in battle to peacefully die beside my brothers in arms."

"You could be my knight, you know," King Gilgamesh suggested. "It is thanks to you that I was given this kingdom." At those words betrayal shown in Diarmuid's golden eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something only to grind his teeth back together and close his lips. "Keeping your title is a way of thanks I wish to bestow upon you, good sir knight."

"I wish to receive no thanks," Diarmuid muttered. "Just let me be with my brothers."

King Gilgamesh sighed and shook his head. "I can't say I tried to reward you. If that is what you wish, so be it."

With that, the king of gold left the young man to wallow in his own pity and grief.

* * *

"My lady, do you really wish to walk amongst the people now?" Altria's ladies in waiting asked as they dressed her in her favorite gown and combed her hair. Altria merely closed her eyes and ears to their words. "This castle is not my own and therefore no longer my home. I wish to be among my people and hope to find some form of comfort."

"If you so wish, milady," her maids said and obeyed her wishes. They let her go and she walked the streets of the city around and bared the burden of her people's disappointed stares to herself. When she found a place to rest, Altria sat herself upon a bench and took in every hard glare from the passing citizen. These troubles had always been hers to take along and so the loneliness to come with it was no stranger to her.

"Altria."

The blonde looked up at the sight of one of her former knights. It was Diarmuid. He shouldn't have been up and about but he was and she could tell by his slow movements that his wounds had yet to be healed completely.

The man took a seat next to her and rested his arms upon his knees, baring the hard glares from the people along with his queen.

"You know . . . they blame me just as much as you," Diarmuid informed.

Altria closed her eyes. "None of this is your fault."

"You should have let me die, Altria!" Diarmuid nearly shouted, but he hadn't shaken his queen, no, she had received far worse shouts full of anger and hate and this subject on the knight's death was of no stranger to those conversations.

A few birds in the nearby tree had flown off and some people walking by took to different routes instead of walking beside the two and chancing upon an argument. The silence of Altria only made Diarmuid more angry and he banged his fist against the bench, near Altria's hip.

"At least this kingdom would still be yours and the people free from that bastard!"

"My burdens are my own, Diarmuid," Altria stated, her voice far more than dead. But still, she managed to turn to him and smile genuinely at his presence. "I am glad you are alive, my brother." Diarmuid was taken aback by the queen's soft smile and easy spirit. His anger turned into bitter sorrow as he looked down at the dirt road underfoot.

"My death would have saved this land and its people from foreign power," Diarmuid said. "And yet you, as its ruler, as my ruler who knows the needs of the people and are willing to make sacrifices, did not make the one needed to save this country. How could you, Altria?"

"I can't ask a former knight to know what a former ruler thought when the time came of your death staring me in the eye and the hope of your life resting in that foreign king's hand," Altria said.

"He knew it, he must have," Diarmuid muttered. "Altria it had to have been a trap which you fell head first into."

"No longer question my decision," Altria ordered and silenced her warrior. "It is of the past and of no more importance."

Altria then stood herself and went to leave the man had Diarmuid not raised his head and called out to her with information she had not known. "He wished me to make his knight, you know. That king said that I had helped him gain this kingdom. How is it, Altria . . . that I can feel so low and like a betrayer when I had done nothing?"

Altria turned to look at her knight and saw his inner turmoil. She had not meant to cause that kind of feeling in him, but what else could she have done? Diarmuid holds honor above anything and she knew he would have blamed his lack of death to the fall of her reign. No, she wanted this burden alone. He had no right to feel this.

Altria returned and wrapped her arms around the man's head, holding it to her bosom. Diarmuid froze before he let his tears slip and clung tightly to his queen who held him in an attempt to comfort him.

"Do not ever wish your death had come to pass again, Diarmuid," Altria whispered, running her fingers through his hair gently. "Don't ever bring about the breaking of my heart once more." Suddenly, her tears began to fall down her hard face. "I cannot bear to dwell on those thoughts because they hurt me so much."

Diarmuid pulled his queen closer into his strong arms and just held her as she held him and both wept and mourned for the tragic loss of their kingdom and for the tormenting of their souls. Altria had truly meant to keep this hurting feeling to herself but when Diarmuid felt the same gouging in his soul Altria could not help but thank the Lord above that she was not alone in this torment, that there was company in this misery no matter how much her other side wishes Diarmuid had remained smiling.

This was true that the man had lost his smile after his recovering and the learning of how Altria's reign ended. Because of this, Altria even refused to smile and the kingdom seemed much more a darker place even though the king of gold fitted it with treasures of silver and gold and precious gems. He wished to turn the kingdom into the likeness of his own, but the people and especially the queen remained the same as always.

After a few months of this attempted change, the time came for an heir to be conceived. The people of the kingdom went about their daily lives and knew not the date of this to transpire, but the people of the castle and the guard especially knew and watched as each day it drew near and each day their queen seemed to fade away.

"Oh my queen," Elaine, the wife of Lancelot spoke as she came before the smaller woman who insisted on sitting on windowsill and gazing out at her once kingdom. "You mustn't forget yourself. You too need nourishment." From behind Elaine's gown a young toddler pulled away and clung to the gown of Queen Altria's. The blond turned from her empty gaze and looked down at the young chubby child. She smiled and picked up the youngling, sitting him down on her lap.

"I am sorry," Elaine explained, reaching for the child. "He slipped from me."

"Do not apologize," Altria said, holding the babe. "One day, I shall have a child liken to you, Galahad."

Her guard around struggled inwardly with her words and the way their queen looked—like a worn blade ready for the scrapheap. As she petted the child's brown head she smiled but her eyes looked about dead with thoughts of what was to come. Lancelot, the father of the child came beside his queen and placed his hand upon her shoulder.

"You shall make a good mother," he blessed her. Altria looked up at him and patted the hand upon her shoulder. "I should hope not," she said, looking back down at the young boy and wiping his bangs out of his blue eyes.

"Why is that?" Elaine asked, worry for her queen so great that she was clutching her heart.

"Because I will depart with that child someday," she said gravely.

"King Gilgamesh is here to stay, milady," Gawain spoke up. "You will be granted to raise your child alongside him I should think."

Altria only bowed her head and pressed the babe close to her breast. "The heir will be his and not mine. I am sure I shall have no part in the upbringing of the child less the babe remain faithful to me and not to their father."

Everyone understood the queen and kept her words in her heart. When the day came for the conception of the heir, Altria had been asked to wear King Gilgamesh's picking of clothing, a design that quite matched his own women of his kingdom. Altria hadn't liked it but this was not her night, it was King Gilgamesh's and the heir that was to be produced.

She had three of her guard escort her to the king's room, Lancelot, Gawain, and Diarmuid. Her two ladies in waiting were with her as well and would remain near until the night was finished. She fiddled with the fabric of her breezy dress and remained at the front of the door for a while.

"The king is ready for you, my queen," her ladies in waiting said as they came and stood beside the large door, ready to open it for their lady. Altria smiled at them and thanked them for their assistance and then she turned to her three knights, each of them stood tall and strong for her, but their faces shown nothing but grim thoughts. She gave each of them an encouraging smile, and took their hands in hers.

"My brave men, you'll always be my knights," Altria told them and watched as a few averted their eyes away from her as she spoke these words and smiled so kindly at them. "I ask you to be a witness to this and know that I am to give myself to my husband and bring forth an heir to him as was promised in the beginning. I am sacrificing my virginity to this foreign king, but it is my choice. I should hope that I would remain as pure and proud in your minds for eternity. I ask for your prayers to give me strength and in doing so I shall pray for you, that you, my brave knights, should be courageous and know that my strength derives from you."

Altria hadn't noticed that her ladies in waiting were both crying. The two women were trying to hide it, but it was of no use. While Altria bid her guard farewell she wrapped her arms around their necks and brought their faces toward hers so that she may touch their skin with hers. When she pulled back she noticed that neither of them could look at her and the grief they were showing her was unbearable. So Altria turned and was led inside where her king awaited.

"Farewell, Altria, you'll always be our Queen," Lancelot muttered as the other two stood next to him while the door shut and the ladies in waiting stood near. While Lancelot and Gawain's limbs refused to have them depart, Diarmuid was too quick to turn and march off. The two men noticed how his anger had overcome his grief and so he needed to be away faster than the other two.

That night had been the longest night in the kingdom, especially for the queen's guard. It seemed to last for an eternity and the notion of the sun rising seemed forgotten in the twilight of the stars. But when it did arise, and when the queen's guards went to see her, her ladies in waiting bid them stay beside her room for she was tired and worn.

Queen Altria hadn't been seen visibly in weeks and it had been eating away at her men. So much so that many had taken leave to deal with the situation and the absence of their queen's presence. Diarmuid was one such guard and took to the taverns to drink away his grief and worry. Even when the barmaids tried to take his mind off of it he would simply push them away, leave the tavern, and take to the streets for a long walk.

When the walk wasn't enough he would return to the training area and train into the night and through the day. Often he was visited by his fellow former-knights; they would keep him company and often spar with him. It was all they could do to pass the time. After two weeks of the queen's absence a royal announcer hailed through the streets a message,

"King Gilgamesh's wife, Queen Altria, is with child! Lend ear and let the message reach the entire kingdom! King Gilgamesh's wife, Queen Altria, is with child as this day!"

"Well, there's his heir," Gawain noted in distain as he sat upon the wooden fence of the small training arena where he only watched Diarmuid train with his spears. Diarmuid only responded to the news with slicing off the head of the wooden soldier he was faced against. Gawain turned immediately and let out a weary sigh. "Again, Diarmuid? The carpenters are getting annoyed."

The guard hadn't said anything though; he simply swung his spears down and leaned them against the wooden post before taking up a wet towel and cleaning his bare chest from the grime and sweat. He had no intention of seeing the queen right away like the other guards had. In fact, as the weeks past Diarmuid had been the only guard not to have seen the queen since the announcement. He's spoken with Lancelot and the others who have seen her and been told her condition but that was all.

No matter how many of his brethren bid him to see her, he would not. In fact he had taken a long leave from guarding the queen. He had told the others that they did the job just well without him. He was still around the castle, but nothing as to guarding the queen or any of the sort. Most of his time was spent out of the castle and in the streets of the city below.

Eventually, he had found himself in the presence of the king who had been speaking to the nobles and his generals. The subject of the conversation was less than pleasing to the dark-haired man.

"One try was all it took to impregnate her," King Gilgamesh said to his men around with a chuckle in his voice and a glass of wine in his hand. "Honestly that child is all mine from all the work I did in making sure he was conceived. She just laid there like a dead fish, contributing nothing on her part at all."

Diarmuid's grip upon his spears was so tight they might have snapped in two. Inwardly he wanted to confront the arrogant man and bring about his death, but he refrained himself by the grace of God and left the room. Upon his march out of the castle he had crossed paths with the queen herself.

There she was, in light gown fit to hug her rounding belly, her two ladies in waiting behind her, waiting on her beck and call. Diarmuid wanted to turn the other way and leave her sight, but in that direction lay the king and he didn't want to return and so he stood there in defeat at being caught under his queen's sight. He felt ashamed beyond reason for his lack of presence before his sworn ruler.

"It's good to see you again, Diarmuid," Altria said, her smile soft. "I was about to head into the gardens and could use some company."

"A man's company is of no need to a woman's," Diarmuid said, bowing himself before her and motioning toward the two ladies Altria had at her side.

"But it is to me," Altria said. "Come, guard of the queen." With that, Altria turned and motioned him to come by her free side. Diarmuid had no choice. He came to her side and let out a small gasp when the queen took up his arm and held it in her arm like she was being escorted by him. He wanted to smile at the gesture, but found so many parts to do so lacking.

In the garden of the castle, Altria sat them upon a bench next to a juniper tree. There they sat in the shade, with Altria's ladies in waiting some yards away, sitting with each other. Altria noticed Diarmuid's uncomfort and noticed how his golden eyes kept glancing down toward her rounding belly. He seemed even more uneased when Altria began rubbing her belly.

"Don't worry, I'm not in any pain, Diarmuid," Altria spoke up, making her the first to break the uncomfortable silence. "This child does make me sick quite a bit and because of so I've lost more weight than my ladies say I should gain." The guard continued on in his silence and Altria didn't mind, as long as he remained with her, she would take his silence.

While Altria affectionately rubbed her belly, Diarmuid couldn't help but hate how she treated the child inside her. He didn't see the child as hers at all, but as a foreign enemy that needed to be tossed into the sea like all the other heathens.

"Do you care . . . for the child you carry?" Diarmuid asked, his features quite serious.

"This child is part mine just as they are part King Gilgamesh," Altria said. "Of course I will care. This will be my firstborn and I pray my last."

"The others spoke of how King Gilgamesh brought up the subject of two children," Diarmuid said, his hands clenched into fists where they laid on his thighs; the thought of his queen baring another of that monster king's children was too much for him to bear.

Altria remained quiet at that and didn't say anything. She just looked down at her protruding belly and then gasped. The sudden gasp alerted Diarmuid and before the guard could ask what was wrong; Altria had taken hold of his hand and placed it upon her belly.

"There!" she said. "Did you feel the child kick?" Diarmuid was at a loss for words. He just didn't know what to say, but he jumped at the feel of the small kicks he felt underneath his palm. Altria let out a small laughter before shaking her head. "Carrying a child and the fact that I shall soon be a mother is so sudden for me that I don't know how to make of it all. Most women dream of this day, but I never did. Is it so wrong, Diarmuid?"

Diarmuid looked his queen in the eye and he could see the hurt behind those beautiful green irises. She was looking to him for answers, but he was just as confused as she was. Diarmuid opened his mouth to speak, but closed his lips to think on his words again.

"I don't . . . see anything wrong . . . with your dreams, my queen," Diarmuid finally spoke.

Altria chuckled and glanced down. "That is because you never saw me as a woman."

Diarmuid opened his mouth to protest, but halted himself. What had she meant by that? Of course he sees her as a woman. When Altria looked at him again, there was so much disappointment in her eyes. What could he say? What could he do?

Instead, Altria just patted her knees and set herself to standing. "Thank-you for your company, Diarmuid," she said. "Granted I enjoyed it."

With that she turned and walked back into the castle with her maids. Diarmuid could tell the woman had been upset. What was it? Was it over the fact that he did something? Or . . . that he hadn't done anything at all?

Of course this was one of the reasons why Diarmuid hadn't wanted to see his queen. Every time he had his thoughts became clouded and dark. He couldn't function properly, in training or just at the mere task of walking. Often times the feel of the queen's presence would call Diarmuid back to the royal castle. In the great halls he would find himself, secretly watching the queen in her daily walks around the castle with her maids.

King Gilgamesh had forbid the queen from venturing further than the castle walls whilst she carried his child and so she had no other choice but to walk around her castle. Her presence was everywhere—from the kitchens below, to the watch towers above. In those days the whole people of the castle could track Altria's pregnancy and as of now, she was very heavy with the child.

"My queen?" This time it was Diarmuid who had approached the woman as she sat down upon a bench in one of the halls, looking in distress. "Is there something the matter?"

"Yes," she said, offering him a pleading smile. "I simply wish to enjoy the sunshine today and cannot find it in my legs to lift my body toward the gardens."

Diarmuid looked at his queen. She had lost so much weight to where her arms would likely not be able to carry a sword. Her legs were in the same condition, but her belly rounded nicely and so he knew she made sure she was keeping the child well fit inside her. He hadn't known that carrying a child would do this to his queen, but of course he hadn't thought much about Altria even coming to be married or start a family.

Without much more thought, Diarmuid came close and bent down to pick her up. Altria gasped at the sudden lift but didn't protest as her guard carried her out into the gardens. When she was sat upon a bench Diarmuid took a seat next to her. "Where are your ladies in waiting?" he asked. "They should have helped you."

"They left to prepare a meal for me," Altria said. "I was supposed to wait in the hall until they returned, but the sudden need to feel the sunshine overcame me and then this noble Knight came riding in to my rescue. Thank-you."

"There's no noble knight here," Diarmuid corrected. "Just a simple guard servant doing what is best."

"I shall thank you no matter what," Altria said, closing her eyes and soaking in the warmth of the sun. "These past few weeks have been hard and I have been bedridden for most of the days. The sun feels nice."

They sat there for a moment, listening to the birds sing and feeling the cool breeze that the castle walls didn't hinder. It was then that Altria placed her hand on her belly. "This child inside me is restless. I should think it is about time for me to give birth."

Diarmuid looked at her in silence and then had her small hand placed delicately atop her large belly. Altria smiled before closing her eyes and letting that smile shift slowly into a frown.

"If I could have asked God at the beginning of time . . . I would have asked Him to make my birth produce a male." Diarmuid looked shocked at his queen. Never before had she cursed her birth until now. Before she had been willing to prove that even though she were a woman, she was just as valiant as any other male. "My lady," Diarmuid tried to stop her words, but she only held up her hand to silence him. "I do regret that my gender hinders me from protecting my people to the fullest," Altria continued. "And in that is my greatest trouble that I bear."

She turned and looked at Diarmuid with a sad smile. "You see, I told you you couldn't possibly understand the trouble of which I carry . . . no man can. God blessed your birth, Diarmuid, and has given you strength to protect. My strength is very limited, as is every woman's. If God would have just seen my heart then a man He would have made me and in that I could stand alongside you and the others."

"You shouldn't have to regret your birth, Altria," Diarmuid pressed, turning his full frame toward her. "God had a plan for your birth as a woman as He does when a man is born."

"I cannot help from regretting my birth and wondering how this kingdom would have been without me," Altria admitted and it was in that moment that Diarmuid saw Altria's insides and every bare bone she carried within her. Diarmuid wished he was of more help to her in making her see that her being a woman hindered nothing, especially the love her people had for her—especially his love.

"Altria," Diarmuid spoke softly as his hands came up and held onto her arms. "I am glad you were born a woman. I truly am."

"But why?" Altria asked, her eyes overflowing with hurt and regret. The water in her eyes threatened to fall and Diarmuid couldn't stand her tears as much as he could stand seeing her like this. "I am of no help except for marrying a king and baring only him heirs while I receive nothing."

"I couldn't love a man if that is what you were born to be," Diarmuid admitted as he brought up his fingers and gently brushed Altria's bangs from her eyes.

Queen Altria's eyes widened slightly before she averted her eyes and shook the man's hands off of her.

"You shouldn't speak such words to a woman who carries another man's child," Altria said, she frowned even greater and had no choice but to regret Diarmuid's presence.

"My lady!" Suddenly, Altria's maids had come running up, looking out of breath. "There you are. We had wondered where you journeyed off to. Here, we have your meal for you today."

"I would like to enjoy my meal in silence," Altria informed. "You should leave."

Diarmuid felt a pain inside him like he's never felt before, but he simply bowed and stood. Inclining his head to the maids he then turned and left with no more words.

"Oh he could have joined us, milady," her maids said. "There's plenty for the both of you."

"No," Altria informed. "Not now he couldn't."

Queen Altria was done confusing her ladies in waiting with her words and so she simply ate in silence and spoke no more to her maids.

Diarmuid though had become so upset with how his queen had pushed him and his affections away that he returned to the training grounds and severed a few more wooden soldier heads. No other guard had come around to visit him this time but someone else had.

"Hey, you there! You used to be a knight, right?" Diarmuid turned with spears in hand and noticed a few of King Gilgamesh's guard standing around the wooden fence. They all wore cocky smiles upon their faces along taunting glares. "You don't look Knight worthy," they said.

Suddenly Diarmuid tossed his short spear and hit the wooden post the guard was leaning on. It had scared the man so much that he yelped and fell backwards in the surprise of the action. Diarmuid simply stood there and held his long spear high. "You care to test out your observation?"

The guard, already infuriated by the surprise he received earlier. Hopped over the fence and took up his sword. "Hope you don't mind my sword, I don't spar without real steel."

"Neither do I," Diarmuid informed as he swung his spear around and pointed the head at the foreign soldier.

The fight ended in the guard's utter defeat. The man had become so red-faced that he attempted to attack again, but Diarmuid only handicapped him and sliced his good arm. He wouldn't be able to raise a blade for a while. The others around tried to challenge him for the honor of their friend but they were struck down as well.

This turned into more than one happenstance. The king's men heard of this and therefore Diarmuid received more than one participant. Each day the crowds grew and bets were made over how many strikes Diarmuid would use to take down an opponent. Of course no one bet on his adversary for the soul fact that he hadn't yet to lose to anyone and it wasn't long before his fellow guard heard of this.

"What is going on?" Gawain asked as he pushed himself through the crowds around the training ground along with Lancelot. Once they managed to get to the wooden post they gawked as they watched their fellow brother take on four of the king's soldiers at once. With his two spears swinging round he tripped two men before bringing the blade around and down upon the helmets of the other two behind him. In two moves he had successfully brought down four opponents.

Diarmuid had wasted nothing in his training.

Impressed Gawain and Lancelot may have been, they still wore the looks full of distain upon their faces. The young guard had worked himself over the blame of the fall of their queen's rule. So he had nothing else to do but train his body and defeat King Gilgamesh's entire army.

"They're taking bets on how long it would take to bring them down," Gawain whispered to his partner. Lancelot merely crossed his arms. They saw, this time, a group of six soldiers ready to hop in the ring and face off against the warrior, but Diarmuid had managed to see something and when he pointed his spear everyone turn in the direction it pointed.

There, a little further off, near the entrance to the barracks, was King Gilgamesh in all his glory, two of his generals standing behind him watching the scene unfold.

"Why if it isn't our king," Diarmuid spoke, his tone full of sarcasm and disrespect. "What is the honor of you gracing us with your presence?"

Gilgamesh simply smiled and motioned to his men. "I simply came to see the man defeating my warriors. I must say I am disappointed in them . . . the one they are losing to is a mere washed out knight."

Gawain and Lancelot's eyes narrowed when the king referred to Diarmuid as such. Both knew the guard was strong, perhaps even stronger than the so-called king.

"It is a shame," Diarmuid said, pointing to those he had defeated. "I suggest they find a new trainer. His ways of battle just won't cut it."

Everything became dead quiet, and the king's men were immediate to walk out of the way as King Gilgamesh walked forward. The blond came up to the wooden fence and picked up a lonesome wooden sword. "I'd bet you would love to fight a king, hm, Diarmuid?"

Diarmuid simply smirked. "I would," he agreed. "But sadly there is none to fight."

In that remark there would have been loud gasps in reaction to the insult, but none dared breathe in that moment. Gilgamesh threw his head back and laughed. "What an arrogant little man. I suppose it is a king's job to put a dog in its place. So be it."

With that he hopped over the fence despite his generals warnings. Diarmuid, even though he had just defeated about 30 opponents, looked of no weariness whatsoever. He simply held his spears close and took in the simple wooden sword of Gilgamesh. "Might I suggest a blade to defend yourself with? You might get upset if I was to mar that petty face of yours."

"A wooden sword is all I need," Gilgamesh said, holding it up. "This shouldn't take long."

With that, Diarmuid attacked, thrusting his long spear down first before waiting for the king to move out of the way of the strike and then hit him with his short spear. Once his short spear fell upon the king, Gilgamesh brought up his wooden sword and swung the spear aside, making sure to strike against the shaft of the spear instead of the blade less his only weapon be split in two.

Diarmuid's strikes were fast as if he were attacking a dangerous enemy, but this king, he was fast on his feet as well. Still, the sheer force Diarmuid was putting behind his swings and thrusts were unexpected, even to King Gilgamesh. The two seemed to dance in circles barely hitting the other for minutes when Diarmuid thrust his short spear forward only to have Gilgamesh swing his wooden sword down upon the shaft and knock it out of Diarmuid's hand.

It looked as if King Gilgamesh had the upper hand with the first strike, but it turned out Diarmuid had sacrificed his short spear in order to put the king off guard from his long spear that came back around and struck him across the cheek. Gilgamesh darted back, his hand upon his cheek. Diarmuid moved away to pick up his dropped spear and then stood still, letting the king behold for the first time the sight of his own blood.

"That's right," Diarmuid said. "Your blood is the same color as every one else's."

Gilgamesh clenched his fist and tossed down the wooden sword and turned around, pulling one of his general's near to take up his sword. When Gilgamesh shined the silver blade before the lancer, he narrowed his eyes. Before anyone could make the first strike, a maid came running out of an upper room on the castle where she could look down at the training post.

"My King!" she called out, her voice clear to those below and called for attention. "The Queen, she is about to birth the child!"

King Gilgamesh understood and so offered the sword back to his general. "Well, looks like my hand was stayed from you. You should thank the prince when he is born," Gilgamesh said with a smirk before he returned with his generals into the castle and to watch the birth of his child.

Once the men were gone, only three remained: Diarmuid, Gawain, and Lancelot. Diarmuid knew his fellow guards were there but decided to ignore them. He simply walked over to a pitcher of water and dashed the entire contents upon himself.

"That was reckless," Lancelot spoke up, his arms still crossed as he looked at his brother.

"I know," Diarmuid agreed. "It would have been better had he used a steel weapon."

"I wasn't referring to the king," Lancelot spoke.

"He's no king," Diarmuid said before turning to Lancelot and Gawain. "You know who's a real king?" He then pointed up at the castle. "There, up in that castle is a lady who is giving birth to her firstborn. She's taken the troubles of the kingdom and its people upon herself, even when she's full of her own trouble. That woman is the real king. Not this foreign jester."

There was true heart in what Diarmuid said and Lancelot and Gawain couldn't agree with him more.

"But our lady was born a woman, thus God ensured she'd never know the title of 'King'," Gawain replied and there was the hard truth as well.

Genders were drawn with a fine line. Thus is how God made it.

Gawain and Lancelot watched as Diarmuid pulled out a wooden soldier and went to striking it. They watched him with just thrust stabs alone, decapitate it. After that one was finished he moved to another and did the same, this time with swinging cuts. After his forth wooden soldier was killed Gawain sighed and jumped into the ring with him.

"Here, let me spar with you. Those wooden soldiers have no clue how to defend themselves," Gawain said with a chuckle in his tone. "But I want to spar with wooden swords and sticks. You fine with that?"

Diarmuid looked at his spears for a while before he slowly put them down and reached around to pull out wooden staffs and give a sword to Gawain. "It's fine if you want me to go easy on you." Gawain laughed as they began to spar. The two had done this for hours before Gawain grew weary. After that, Lancelot jumped in and helped wear out Diarmuid.

All three sat leaning against the wooden posts drinking large gulps of water. The sun was lowering itself in the sky, but there was still plenty of light.

"One more round, old man?" Diarmuid asked, leaning toward Lancelot. The man simply pushed him over saying, "You can barely stand and you want another round of sparing? I think not."

After a chuckle of laughter was shared the three heard a loud 'bang!' and when they turned they noticed it was King Gilgamesh, exiting the entrance to the castle with his two generals at his heels. They seemed to try to come close to the king, speaking something or another, but the blond simply threw up his hands and ordered their silence before marching off toward the castle walls.

"What do you suppose that was all about?" Gawain asked. "The queen's alright isn't she?"

Suddenly, dread filled the three and all jumped up at once, each trying to race into the castle first. Once they made it to the queen's chambers the lady in waiting standing outside stopped them. "I am sorry, but the queen wished to be alone for the time being. She is very tired."

"Is she alright?" All three asked in unison.

"Yes, she is fine," the lady said with a smile.

"And the child?" Gawain asked.

Before the lady could speak another word, they heard the queen's voice from behind the door.

"Is that my guard?" Altria asked, though her voice was low and full of weariness. "Aye, milady, it tis."

"If they wish to see me, send them in," Altria ordered.

Her lady in waiting nodded and silently warned all three of them to be careful. Once she opened the door the sight of Altria laying in bed was what met their line of sight. The three rushed to her side and made sure she looked fine.

"My queen," Gawain said as he came to her side, the one guard who came closest. "How did the birthing go? It didn't hurt you did it?"

"I've had much worse a wound on the battlefield," Altria said with a soft smile while she shifted to lift herself in a sitting position. Once she made a pained face, Gawain gently helped her and noticed she held onto a bundle wrapped in white silk. Gawain smiled as he looked at the slumbering babe. "The child is so small."

"Yes, she is," Altria said, looking down at her.

"She?" Lancelot questioned, suddenly realizing why the golden king had stormed out of the castle in a rage.

Altria looked at her men and nodded sadly. "Behold," she said, holding her out to them briefly so that they may get a better look at her. "King Gilgamesh's firstborn heir."

"If I recall correctly, he believed you to be carrying a son," Gawain said, looking at the fair skinned daughter of his queen.

"She surprised us all, didn't you, Igraine?" Altria cradled the child close to her neck.

Diarmuid smiled and came close to the child, touching her small hand with his finger. "You named her after your mother."

"King Gilgamesh had thought of many names for his son," Altria informed. "But no names for a daughter and so I took it upon myself to name her. I am sure that man never would."

"You and the child get some rest," Lancelot said, motioning for the other two to leave. "We'll disturb you no longer."

Queen Altria nodded and laid back down, with child cuddled against her breast. It had taken the queen a while to recover from the birth of her firstborn. She had lost so much weight that she could hardly walk and so her ladies in waiting did nothing but fatten her up whilst she remained bedridden for a month or two. Eventually she gained the weight she had lost since the pregnancy and now she was ready to walk again.

Of course she was forbidden from traveling out into the city, but she managed until she walked more upright. Afterwards, she was safely able to leave the castle but her daughter remained with a wet nurse. For the first time her people came to greet her and tell her how happy they were that she recovered. This had made her smile.

When the rest of her guard came and congratulated her on her motherhood she simply quieted them and said, "Being a mother is so new and sudden to me. It will take some time to get used to the new title."

"You're a quick learner, my queen," Lancelot said with a smile. She nodded back and thanked him for the compliment.

Lancelot was right. Altria had been a fine mother. She was there when her daughters spoke her first word, she was there when her daughter took her first step, she was even their when her daughter's father finally saw her again after so many months away and it was clear he despised her. Because of this, Altria was left by her husband and in this she was happy.

It had been a year now since Igraine had been born and Altria was at peace with her. They would often play out in the garden and on rare occasions she would take her daughter out into the city to meet everyone. Her daughter was very bright and learned things fast. Altria always said she took after her mother and her guard agreed.

It was because the princess was so much like her mother that the guard loved her. At the mere age of two she had already befriended her mother's guard, seeking rides upon their shoulders since they were all so tall. She had especially taken close to Diarmuid and on one occasion, calling him—

"Papa!" Igraine cried while the knight let her fall off his shoulders and into his arms, all squeals and giggles. Diarmuid froze in his laughter and set the girl down. Queen Altria was quick to rush to the girl's side and correct her. "No, no, Igraine, your father is in the throne room, with his men. Is that it, you wish to go see your father?"

"No, no," she rejected, clinging onto Diarmuid's leg. "Papa, papa!" Altria looked up at Diarmuid in apology but the guard simply rolled his shoulders and shook his head. He knelt down and picked the girl up, holding her close. "I suppose she sees me as her 'papa' because I'm around the two of you daily. It's a shame that her own father can't be this close to her. She's not a curse."

"I am happy that he is away," Altria said, looking at her daughter. "He's still angry at me for giving him a daughter."

"What, is he wanting to try for a boy this time?" Diarmuid asked as he petted Altria's daughter's golden locks.

"God let his mind be on other things," Altria said. Diarmuid looked at his queen and noticed how upset she was. He turned and placed the princess in a maid's hands and bid her take her to the wet nurse. After that he took Altria's hand suddenly and dragged her along with him.

"What are you doing?" she asked in surprise.

"We're going out into the city. I know the place sets your mind at ease," Diarmuid informed.

And it did, being around her people always did ease away her worries and as she sat at the tavern with Diarmuid she closed her eyes and tried to escape.

"Tell me, my queen," Diarmuid pressed. "Is there a reason why you are so fearful of giving King Gilgamesh a son?"

"You don't understand," Altria said with a sad smile. "Even though he may forget it, we made a promise, he and I. The promise was that the firstborn was his. He never told me any specific gender, assuming I would have a son. So Igraine is Gilgamesh's heir whether he likes it or not. Without my consent he spoke of two children, the second he agreed would be mine. What if he is unsatisfied with his daughter to the point he goes against his word and takes me again and I do have to carry his child within me. I cannot do it again, Diarmuid."

Diarmuid leaned in close and took the woman's hands into his own. "Do you hate him that much?"

"I do," Altria admitted, nodding her head. "Giving myself away to him was so hard. He hurt me in bed and I was glad to know I came to be with child so soon."

"He hurt you?" Diarmuid asked, his hands clenching tighter around his queen's. Before he could crush her hands within his own he let go. "I'm sorry, my lady." Altria shook her head. "I know you're upset, the others would be as well if they knew."

"We would likely castrate that fool if given the opportunity," Diarmuid informed. "Say, I've got an idea. Let's get your mind away from that maniac in asking you what you'd think a real husband would be."

"A real husband?" Altria asked with a confused blink. "As in who I would wed?"

"Sure," Diarmuid nodded.

"Well he would have been a wondrous warrior; his men would have paved the seas and countryside with brick and stone just so that his steed may not trample over dirty ground. A righteous and noble King he would be. He would give all his treasures to his people and there would be no beggar in his kingdom. Just as easily as he would lay down his treasures to the poor he would lay down his life for his ideals and the life of his subjects. That would be the king I would gladly marry," Altria nodded.

Diarmuid chuckled and let out a long sigh. "So it has to be a king, huh?"

"For the last time; I won't court you, Diarmuid," Altria muttered, punching her guard in the shoulder. He feigned a wound and rubbed the red mark before looking at her with serious eyes. "That sounded to me what you wanted to be like . . . had you been born a king."

Altria froze and looked at her guard. Had it been that easy to see through? Had her thoughts come to be seen so clearly now-a-days or was it just Diarmuid getting under her skin as usual? Sometimes it had been so hard to tell, especially now that the two had shared a trouble together and touched spirits.

"That dream can still be, Altria," Diarmuid whispered to her as he leaned in close so that only she may hear his words. "Your knights are still strong and can, if ordered to by our queen, overthrow this foreign power for you."

"No," Altria said, backing away. "I have promised this kingdom to King Gilgamesh and will in no way seek to take my promise away for him. I cannot order that!"

With that she stood and left the tavern. Diarmuid growled and slammed his hand down on the table before getting up and chasing after. "Altria! Stop walking away from me!"

When he caught up with her and grabbed her wrist, she pulled it away from him immediately and turned to confront him. "No, Diarmuid!" she spat. "I will not order you to do such a thing. I have made a promise to an ally and will not ruin my honor for the sake of gaining my rule back. That is one thing against my ideals, Diarmuid."

"Then you'll let him continue to abuse you like this?" Diarmuid asked. "You'll let him break his promises to you but you won't return the favor and break yours? !"

"Let him soil his own honor, I shall not shame my name," Altria spoke, knowing that is was true what Diarmuid had said. She knew that King Gilgamesh was likely to go against his promises in order of his own gain, especially that of an heir. "He is the king and can do what he pleases."

"What kind of a king is that then?" Diarmuid asked. "He's nothing but a common thug. Is that who is ruling this kingdom?"

"It is best you don't speak of him like that," Altria warned, looking around to see Gilgamesh's men wandering the streets. Diarmuid looked at them too but scoffed. "I am not afraid of them, or their king. I am a knight of the queen and one of the best warriors in the land. No foreign king nor his army will I fall under."

"Listen to yourself and come back to reason," Altria bade. "You're useless to talk to when like this."

With that she turned and walked away again. Diarmuid caught up with her and pulled her around again. "Damn it, Altria, why didn't you save yourself this trouble and just let me die? Why was my life more important than that of the kingdom's?"

"Would you not have done the same?" Altria asked, trying to raise herself up only to find herself too short to the tall man. "Would you not have done the same if you had been king and I, your knight, lay there dying. Would you not have done it too?"

Diarmuid said nothing for a while before closing his eyes. "Yes," he replied. "And why is that?" Altria asked, hoping he would understand how much he or any other of her knights meant to her.

"Because I love you, Altria," Diarmuid admitted, the naked truth entirely in his eyes as he opened them and looked at his queen.

"And you don't think I care anything for you or the others?" Altria asked, stepping closer and placing her hand over her heart. "I have married a foreign man and thus have given him my kingdom. I have born his daughter! What else do I have to prove to you that you mean more to me than my own happiness?"

Queen Altria hadn't even had time to make of how the taller man had pressed his hands against her cheeks and pulled her close to kiss her lips. By the time she even knew what he had done, the softest of kisses had ended and Diarmuid pulled away, whispering against her lips, "You deserve happiness as much as any other human being on this planet."

"Di-armuid?" Altria whispered in confusion as the man pulled her close once more and kissed her sweetly. She hadn't even noticed the tears that fell from her eyes as the man held her and caressed her. Once he had finished his second kiss he kissed the corner of her mouth and then her cheek and then her brow. After which he pulled her into his arms and let her weep against his chest.

"I told you I loved you, Altria," Diarmuid repeated. "So believe me when I say that I want your happiness in this world more than anything and if it meant dying for it then I would. So when it is my time to die . . . do not stop me."

"Diarmuid you can't do this," She bade as she pulled away from the man who held her close. "As your queen I order you to stay your hand."

"Why?" Diarmuid asked, smiling softly at her as he ran his hand though her hair. "Is it because you don't want to break your promise with King Gilgamesh, or is it something else?" _Do you love me too, Altria?_

The queen opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. So, instead, Diarmuid pulled her close once more and kissed her one last time before he turned and left her. Altria had stood there, in that very spot for what felt like an eternity until her mind bid her body return home. That entire night she hadn't slept. Thoughts of her crazy guard dancing in her head.

"Mama," Igraine called to her mother after fearing her attention had been lost. Altria snapped out of her gaze and looked at her daughter that bore the spinning image as she. "What is it, my love?"

The little girl stood up and climbed into her mother's lap and then grabbed her arms and wrapped them around herself. Altria smiled and held her daughter close. She looked up toward the entrance way hoping to see Diarmuid who would usually stand there, leaning against the wall and watching the two play, but he wasn't there this time. This time it was just her, her daughter, and the maids.

"Papa?" Igraine asked, leaning up and touching her mother's face.

"No, little one, he's in the throne room seeing important people," Altria informed, but this seemed to upset her daughter. So her little one grabbed at her hair hard. "Papa," she called out. Altria flinched and yanked her locks out of her daughter's hands. "No, Igraine, don't do that to your mother."

"Papa~!" her daughter cried and yet there was another temperamental issue Altria had to deal with . . . but at least it kept her mind clear from other distractions.

Or so she thought.


	4. An Affair meant to Be

Around the time when little Igraine was but a half and two years, Queen Altria had been called before her husband. Once she came before him she noticed that he was not alone. His generals were there, as were many a noble and his counselors.

"What have you summoned me for, my husband?" Altria asked, wondering why he was addressing her so publicly.

"How is your daughter fairing?" Gilgamesh asked.

"_Your_ daughter is fairing well," Altria said, keeping her eyes upon the king. "Are you displeased with her in any way?"

Altria sought to get the truth out openly. Everyone knew how much the king despised his daughter over the fact that she was not a son and so Altria wanted him to admit it and just as he does she will then point out that no matter her gender, their daughter was indeed King Gilgamesh's heir. Gilgamesh, however remained silent before he sat up straight in _her_ throne.

"I have spoken to my homeland about my goings here," Gilgamesh informed. "They have accepted you as my wife, as their queen, but your daughter they have refused."

"How can they refuse her when she is of your own flesh and blood?" Altria asked, outraged by the customs of his people.

"Simple," Gilgamesh stated. "She is not a son. So, in order to remain in favor of my people I ask of you that you bear me a son."

Diarmuid had been right; Gilgamesh would simply go against their promise and ask for another child, a son. Altria placed her hand over his chest and spoke to him, "Have I been so displeasing to you, King Gilgamesh? That I should give to you my kingdom, my maidenhood, and my firstborn child? Now you should seek to disrupt a promise upon which you had given your word was final?"

"And if my people should come to despise me and say I cannot bring forth a male heir?" Gilgamesh asked, his voice raising in tone. "Would you have your husband king dethroned?"

"No," Altria answered, bowing her head. "But surely I am the one to blame for not being able to produce you a male heir. Why not take another wife and bear one through her?"

Gilgamesh held up his index finger.

"Only one queen. That is custom everywhere."

Gilgamesh offered a sweet smile and stood from his throne. Walking closer to his bride he placed his hand gently on her face. "You are my wife; of course there is always room for a second chance."

A second chance. That is what Altria's husband referred to her as. And what would happen if she were the bear another daughter? Would he go for a third chance and fourth and a fifth? No, no Altria couldn't take this. There was too much turmoil to deal with and with this falling upon her she just couldn't bear the thought of bearing that man more children.

That night, Altria sat herself in the nursery, holding onto her daughter and petting her hair. She leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry, Igraine. I love you but I cannot bear the thought of giving you any siblings. Am I so selfish?"

The little girl moved in her sleep. Altria smile and walked over to her bed and placed her down. After covering her she sat in a wooden chair, watching her daughter slumber in the dark. She hadn't known how long had passed, and she hadn't cared. She was not tired and the feeling of her tears falling down her face made her ever aware of her delicate state of mind.

Altria blinked as she watched the door to the nursery creep open. Her maids had been dismissed since she herself had decided to spend the night with her daughter. So when the person entered quietly and came to Igraine's bedside, Altria sat there, at ease. She knew this one meant no harm to her daughter, but the fact that he had probably been doing this every night without her awareness did perturb Altria.

She watched on in silence as her guard leant down and kissed her daughter upon her head. She had remained quiet and wondered how long until he realized that she had been in the room watching him this entire time. When he turned around suddenly, Altria realized that his senses had slowed just a tad bit since she had last seen him.

Diarmuid hadn't said anything because of the slumbering child near and so Altria nodded and stood up. She came close to him and when the moonlight hit her face, he saw the sadness in her face. He motioned to her as if asking her what was wrong. She simply took his hand and held it against her face, letting him feel for himself, the wet hot tears of his queen.

Diarmuid took the blonde's face into his hands and had her look up at him. Inside his eyes was the very same sadness.

_Had he known what Gilgamesh wants of me?_ Altria wondered in secret. _How can he understand my sorrow? Unless . . . _

Slowly, Diarmuid leaned down and pressed his lips against her awaiting ones. Altria did not push away this time, no, she simply leaned in closer and let a man hold her, let Diarmuid hold her.

_How long do you suppose that he's felt this way toward you, Altria?_ The queen hadn't known. Perhaps since their first meeting, their first duel, their first injury together. She hadn't known but was that really the most important question as of that night? She should think it was: _How long do you suppose you've felt this way toward him, Altria?_

How long? Altria never thought of herself with a man, no, she's thought of herself as a man, but with a man . . . a man like Diarmuid, well that answer would probably come later. Right now, right now she wanted to know how a man could love a woman and she wanted Diarmuid to show her if he could.

Queen Altria ran her hands up the width of Diarmuid's back and came to rest her arms upon his shoulders. He was a tall man, so tall that Altria had to nearly stand on her tiptoes, but as Diarmuid wrapped his arms around her waist he himself picked her up, kissing her deeply and close.

When Altria kissed back, the arms holding her tightened and it was in that embrace that she didn't want to be let go. They stayed that way in the moonlight, holding tightly onto the other and kissing the other until no breath was left in them. When Altria's hands moved to Diarmuid's face she found her fingertips touching the wetness of the man's tears. She pulled her lips away from his and opened her eyes. The guard was crying.

"Diarmuid," Altria whispered, touching those warm tears of his.

He said nothing and merely wept. She smiled gently at him before she took hold of his arms and loosened his hold on her so that he may let her down. As her feet touched the ground she took hold of his hand and pulled him to her. There she took him to the conjoined room of the nursery, where the wet-nurse would sleep as they watched over Igraine when Altria was absent.

Sitting herself upon the bed, Altria pulled the man down upon her and kissed him deep. The dark-haired man was returning the fervor in kind and soon his hand fell upon her neck, slowly coming down toward her breast. Altria hadn't stopped him as he undressed her nor had he stopped her when she pulled him close to her.

If this was a sin then Altria prayed God strike her dead then and there because she could not stop herself from craving Diarmuid's soft touches and gentle kisses. She had never known this side of a man before. Not with her "husband" nor had she ever dreamt about it. But now that Diarmuid was showing it to her she did not resist and with open arms let him lay above her and love her as a man loved a woman.

This was love making and Altria felt as if her heart would burst. Holding onto him throughout the night was all the queen wanted to do and she knew he felt the same with the way his arms wrapped so tightly around her. But the light of the day called for them to separate and in that departure, Altria felt an actual piece of her soul rip off and depart with Diarmuid. This must have been the sign that he was the mate to her soul that she had never known.

That night in Diarmuid's arms had changed Altria. The whole castle could see it. She seemed to walk lighter steps; she smiled more often and even began laughing more. It didn't take long before the women of the castle, especially, figured that their young queen had fallen in love.

"Queen Altria, do tell, what has come over you?" Elaine had asked as she sat in the nursery and watched alongside Altria as their children played with one another. Altria simply looked at her and smiled. Elaine knew that look very well and wondered if she could get it out of the woman.

"My word, you are radiant today," Altria's lady in waiting, Gendella, said as she entered the room with her mistress' breakfast. "I haven't seen you like this since before the black fleet."

"Really?" Altria asked her hand touching her blushing cheeks.

"Has your husband finally managed to sweep you off your feet, dear queen?" Gendella asked. Altria's face was quick to scrunch up in distaste. Elaine chuckled as her son ran into her arms and she picked him up and placed him in her lap. "That is a definite 'no'," she said.

"Mama!" Igraine cried out in glee as she ran up to her mother and slammed her body into her legs.

Altria smiled and leant down to pick up her daughter. "My you are getting big, little girl."

She smiled and kissed her daughter's cheek. "Mama happy!" Igraine exclaimed and rubbed her face into Altria's neck.

Suddenly Lancelot entered the room and was immediately met by a quickly bolting boy who hit his father's legs and was soon after picked up into his father's embrace.

"Papa!" Little Galahad squealed as he hugged his father's neck.

Little Igraine noticed her friend's bound to his other parent and so followed suite and bound for the other guard next to Lancelot. "Papa!" she copied Galahad and was met with the same result, the adult picked her up and she hugged his neck.

"Igraine, how many times must I tell you that's not papa?" Altria said with a laugh as she came up the guard who smiled affectionately at her, just as she did back.

"Well, her 'papa' is never around," Elaine spoke as she stood and went to her husband's side and patted her son whilst kissing her husband on the lips. "Glad you could make it. Galahad has about worn out the little princess."

"Has he now?" Lancelot asked, shaking his boy in his grasp who only giggled. "Queen Altria told me to do it, I promise," the little boy swore who only received more tickling from his father.

"And he did a good job," Altria said, walking up to Diarmuid who was holding her daughter about to fall asleep. "Thank you for lending him, Lancelot, Elaine."

"It was our pleasure, Queen Altria," Elaine said. "Be sure to put her to bed soon or else she'll keep you up all day."

"I will heed your advice," Altria said as she watched them leave. She smiled when she turned and watched Diarmuid walk toward her daughter's bed and place her down. Altria had smiled at his gentleness and the way he coaxed the little girl to finally close her eyes and give into the dreams.

Turning to her lady in waiting, Gendella, Altria smiled and asked, "May you fetch me some wine, Gendella? After all the excitement today I feel I've earned it." The older woman smiled and did as she was told. Once the door was shut the queen had rushed to her guard's side and embraced him and gave him a deep kiss of which he did return with equal if not greater passion.

When they pulled apart for only a short amount, Diarmuid smiled and in turn so did the queen. "I haven't seen you smile like that in years, my queen."

"I could say the same for you," Altria said, the tips of her fingers gently rubbing the man's lips before she pulled them away and set her own lips upon them again.

Her arms came up and wrapped around his tanned neck before her fingers found their way into his midnight black hair. She took hold of handfuls of hair and pulled him closer to her feeling as if he was just too far away. The moment Altria pulled him closer, Diarmuid's hand came down to the small of her back, fingering at the laces tied there.

The queen felt her body begin to burn with the same fire it had the previous night when she and Diarmuid became of one flesh. She pulled away from him and touched the sides of his face. "No," she said, seeing the great want in Diarmuid's eyes tempted to reflect in her own. "I shall spend another night in the nursery, come to me then."

Diarmuid said no word, just kissed her deeply once more before letting her go. Just as soon as she was set upon her feet she turned and watched her lady in waiting enter in with a glass of wine.

"What happened to you, milady? You look flustered."

Altria turned back toward her daughter and patted her little golden head. "Igraine was being such a handful before we put her down. Wasn't she, Diarmuid?" Diarmuid nodded his head in agreement before he made his way out of the room. "If you need anything more, my queen, I shall be outside with Gawain."

"Thank you," Altria said, her smile soft and a giggle on her lips as the man winked before shutting the door behind him.

That had been what the two lovers had set up at the moment; meeting in secret in the dark of night inside the nursery where none would find them together. With Igraine slumbering in the dark they could hardly speak a word to the other without fear of waking up the princess. Words between them didn't matter. They have already said enough to understand one another through mere glances and touches.

So they communicated that way, with simple glances and passionate touches. The affair began unexpectedly but the fire it brought about in their souls caused neither a pause of a repentant thought of what they were doing. They would hold each other throughout the night, breathe the same breath, and make love until the sun rose.

Every night they saw each other, whether it was in the nursery or in another secluded room, Altria and Diarmuid made sure that their bodies were connected in the closest of ways. The notion of infidelity was nowhere in their minds, only the reason to consummate their relationship and create some reality to it if only between the two of them.

But lately, Queen Altria's husband has been calling her to his presence and keeping her there for hours on end.

Altria sat there, leaning against her husband's chest and telling herself to remain still as his long fingers rubbed her arms and then her shoulders when she felt him lean down and plant kisses along her neck. She knew what he wanted—it wasn't pleasure from her, no it was simply an heir issue; he wanted a son. He didn't want to become closer to his wife in any emotional or physical way; he just wanted the use of her body for a male heir, one she refused to give him thus far.

"You feel so tense, my wife," Gilgamesh cooed, bringing his hands closer toward her neck and began pressing against her taut muscles. "Is there a reason?"

"I am not feeling well, my king," Altria lied. "Oh?" Gilgamesh made, turning her head so that she may look upon him. "Why so?"

Altria placed her hand upon her abdomen and motioned a rubbing. "My cycle has come to me early."

"It has, has it?" Gilgamesh asked, raising a brow before moving away from her. "You should have told me, Altria."

"Forgive me," Altria bid. "I thought that your summoning of me was urgent."

"It was nothing," Gilgamesh said, waving his hand away. "Just return to me when you are better."

"I shall send a servant informing you of my condition," Altria informed before she turned and left.

She never did and the queen wondered how long she could get away with escaping her husband. Apparently it had only been two months. Honestly she, herself, had forgotten her sending of a servant to King Gilgamesh. She had been too busy.

Her affair with Diarmuid had oddly enough lightened her heart to the point she was spending more time with her guard. She would begin to spend time at the training post with them and even returning to their spring where they all bathed together. Though, in reality Altria hadn't bathed with them like she used to, claiming that her post-child bearing body wasn't a pleasant sight to look upon.

"Come on, queen, I'm sure no one cares what your body looks like," Diarmuid brought up, leaning against the edge of the pool. A wink was directed Altria's way and she had to turn to keep her heated face hidden from her men. She knew all her former-knights were smart and would be able to spot her abnormal behavior right away, using her child as an excuse not to show her body before her secret lover less that fire begin to burn bright inside her again was the only excuse she could think of.

"Leave her alone, Diarmuid," Gawain groaned out, himself leaning against the edge of the pool beside the man. "If you come to bear a child and then no longer wish to bath with fellow warriors then I shall pester you, fair?"

Diarmuid simply chuckled and splashed water into his fellow warrior's face. Gawain only moved a little further away to soak in peace. Still, Diarmuid persisted. "Come get your feet wet then, Altria."

The queen rolled her eyes and sighed. She stripped off her slippers and walked over in the cool grass barefoot toward the pools. "Very well, but _only_ if you massage my soles."

"Why it'd be an honor, your majesty," Diarmuid smiled, waving her closer and grabbing her feet the moment she touched them into the water.

"You're a hopeless dog, Diarmuid," Gawain muttered, a loud laughter from the others rising in the air afterwards.

"Hey now," Diarmuid warned, raising a threatening hand toward Gawain who, for safety measures, began backing away into his other brethren.

"Oh that was it!" Lancelot suddenly shouted, looking quite distressed before he pulled out his leather belt and came toward Altria. "I'm sorry, my queen, I know you sent me to the leather dresser to have him fashion a collar, but it just escaped my mind. Here, use this in the meantime." He then turned to look at a confused Diarmuid who was slowly coming to understand just what jest was being played on him. "It should fit him."

"You son of a—!" Diarmuid jumped out of the pool and lunged at Lancelot. The two rolled into a small wrestling match until Lancelot laughed so hard he lost the match. Diarmuid eventually rolled off of the older warrior from the laughter that bubbled up inside his own self.

"This is what I've missed," Gawain spoke up. Everyone didn't have to ask him the meaning of his words, they knew and all smiled and nodded in agreement. "I do so agree," the others began saying. "It's because Queen Altria has started smiling again!"

"I have so noticed your upright mood, Altria," Lancelot said as he settled himself into the water. "I should like to know the secret of feeling as myself in the past in times like these."

Altria merely kicked her feet in the water and smiled. She turned and looked toward Lancelot and then met every one of her guards in the eyes. "I've decided to stop living in my grief and own shortcomings and realized it is high time I share my life with the ones I love." She turned toward Diarmuid and inclined her head. "Diarmuid helped me realize that I'm not alone when I have my loyal men by my side. It took long to convince this blind woman, but I know that my burden is not my own, but my closest friends and if I cannot find comfort than neither can they. So I ask all of you to forgive this poor minded girl and to accept my apology. I will no longer face my trials alone. I would gladly stand by your side, if you should have me."

Her guards all pounded their chests with their fists. "We are yours to command, Queen Altria. We'll stand by your side until the end!"

Altria nodded her head and blinked away her bittersweet tears. "Thank-you."

Her words were true and around her guard she did lean on them for support and they happily obliged her with her issues. She had felt so much lighter that one would think she had woken up in Heaven.

Had all this realization happen upon Altria just because of the relationship she began with Diarmuid? One had to wonder, especially she herself.

Of course she had not told any soul about her love affair with the man, but neither had he. It was strange how secretive she could be about this issue, she had never been one to hold secrets in her life for fear of their wicked nature, but this seemed best just simply between the two of them.

"You disappoint me, Altria," Diarmuid said, resting his chin upon his arms as he stared at the woman who sat a little further away from the spring, drying off her legs. She merely looked at him with bored eyes. "Not wanting to bath with us anymore, shame, one should grow suspicious," Diarmuid teased with a cock of his brow.

"Are you quite finished, Diarmuid of the shining face? That's what the ladies call you, right?" Altria asked as she picked up a dry towel and walked over to the man. She motioned back toward the last of the guards leaving them behind. "Here," she offered the man a towel, "you'll prune yourself to death if you don't get out."

"Come bathe with me," Diarmuid said, pushing himself away from the edge of the pond and swimming further out into the deeper end.

"I will not," Altria said, pointing at him. "I know what you want, and it's not to bathe. Now get out before I just leave you here."

"So commanding today," Diarmuid chuckled, swimming back toward the edge and watching as his queen shifted her weight from one foot to the next. "What's wrong? Tired of standing?"

"Yes, that massage was useless and horrible," Altria complained, turning to pick up her slippers.

"Sit down again, I'll give you a good one," Diarmuid swore.

"It's late, I'm sure King Gilgamesh is upset that I'm nowhere to be found, I'd rather not have him come looking for me," Altria said with a sigh, but Diarmuid insisted, holding out his hands. With a roll of her eyes Altria nodded and sat herself down. She dipped her feet into the water and let the man rub her feet.

She had to admit, this time he was pressing harder and it felt good on the balls of her feet. She smiled down at him and encouraged him to continue. Closing her eyes she let the massage commence until she gasped, opening her eyes and watching as the dark-haired man kissed her left calve that he had in his hands. It was a soft and slow kiss that made Altria's body heat.

Her cheeks flushed and she quickly looked around to make sure no one was present to see her secret lover's show of affection. "Diarmuid, don't do that out here. If someone sees I—"

"I don't care, let them see," Diarmuid muttered against the pale skin of her leg. His hand then went to her other leg and brought the same part to his lips. "It's not wrong that I love you."

Lifting himself with the grip of the edge, Diarmuid brought himself closer to Altria's height and kissed her lips. A woman might have had some concern for her gown. She might have had concern for her dry hair or skin that had yet to become pruned with water, but there was no concern in Altria when Diarmuid, in all his naked wet glory, leaned against her and kissed her passionately.

So she gave into the fire of her body and let the warrior press himself between her thighs and make love to her aside the springs. They were all alone and in their secret place and so she allowed her soul to soar if just for tonight.

Altria enjoyed the company of her lover to the extent that she wasn't only meeting him in the dark of the night to merely make passionate love, but to rest in the other's presence. On one such night Diarmuid had taken Altria out on horseback and they came to a large green hill that was the most ideal for sightseeing, there the two laid themselves down; Altria resting her head on top of Diarmuid's abdomen and the guard laying himself still while his lady lover rested against him.

"Look, I saw a star fall right over there!" Diarmuid jumped, pointing up toward the star-filled night while he rested his head on an arm laid behind his neck. Altria looked in the direction he pointed and smiled. "I saw the remnants of its presence," she said with a smile, looking up at him while he looked down at her and smiled.

The two remained in silence before Altria pointed to the night sky. "Over there! It came about so fast that it's gone." Diarmuid looked over to where she pointed and just smiled. Glancing down at the woman he asked, "When was the last time you did this? In all my years of fealty to you, I haven't once seen you stargaze."

Altria thought about the question for a moment before she laid her hands over her belly and just let her body relax. She smiled and looked up at the stars, all so bright, all so lively tonight. "Oh, well . . . I'd have to say when I was but a little girl, wandering out into the garden with my mother."

"The queen had been a wise and gentle woman, I remember her," Diarmuid said with a remembering smile.

"She was," Altria agreed, remembering the legacy of her mother and the impact she made in her life. Her mother had been at her side first when her father had died without any male heirs. She had been her first supporter and her first comforter and helped her daughter in a great deal on how to run a kingdom.

"Now I can see where you got it," Diarmuid said, looking down at his queen, a small wink in his eye. "I'm curious though. I never met your father, though I had heard of him when his reign still prospered, do you suppose you inherited anything from him?"

"I dare say not," Altria said, closing her eyes to hide the frown traveling from her lips to her eyes. "Now that King Gilgamesh is my husband I understand what my mother had to live with."

"Comparing your father to that man? Hm, must not be good," Diarmuid said with a chuckle, keeping his golden eyes upon the sky above.

Altria nodded her head. "He had hated my birth and my mother for bearing me. He died a bitter man over the fact he never produced any male heirs."

"You're afraid your daughter will go through the same childhood," Diarmuid concluded.

Altria nodded again. "Guilty of that thought," she admitted.

"It doesn't matter," Diarmuid said, sitting himself up and petting Altria's head in his lap. "Your Queenship was better than your father's Kingship by far. Ask the people, they'll give you the laid out truth."

"You know, my mother had always liked you," Altria admitted.

Diarmuid blinked in confusion before scratching his cheek. "That woman always gave me such a hard time."

Altria chuckled before shaking her head and lifting her hands to take Diarmuid's in her own and press his knuckles against her cheek. "She just wanted to make sure her little girl was safe."

"Of course you were," Diarmuid fought. "I was your first knight, I wouldn't dream of bringing harm to you in any way. Was she right in her mind?"

"When you become a parent . . . you can understand why she acted the way she did," Altria said, thinking of her own daughter asleep with her wet-nurse at the castle. When the queen closed her eyes she felt a rough hand pat her shoulder none to gently. She opened her eyes and watched Diarmuid chuckle down at her. "Oh, so you're pulling that card, are you?"

The two had somehow gotten into a tickle fight with Altria in too deep in a horrible loss. She rolled back and forth as the man on top of her ran his fingers down every sensitive spot known. Her face turned so red and her breathing so ragged that one would think she was about to die.

"Stop it, stop!" she laughed, trying to shield her sides and legs from Diarmuid's tickling fingers. "I'm sorry, I won't say it again."

Diarmuid had pulled back but tickled her every now and then. Letting her sit up next to him he smiled and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "I would become a parent for you, Altria." Altria looked at the former-knight who kept a soft distant smile on his lips as his gaze fell into vision of dream and wish. "I would become a husband for you . . . if you had not wedded yourself to another."

Altria could hear the hurt in his voice and wished this moment between the two of them hadn't been ruined by the fact she indeed was a married woman. A slave to a controlling king.

"How long have you loved me, Diarmuid?" Altria asked suddenly. The guard simply crossed his arms and replied, "Since I swore myself to you." Altria shook her head and met his eyes. "No, when you desired to hold me as you would a lady." Diarmuid nodded in understanding until he thought about it for a moment.

"I suppose . . . it was sometime after your marriage to King Gilgamesh. I hated the way he treated you and I hated the way you let him. I knew you deserved better and how I thought you should be treated ended up being how I wanted to treat you," Diarmuid answered. "It's strange how it took so long for me to realize this."

"So then my marriage to King Gilgamesh wasn't for naught," Altria said with a small smile. "If it forced you to come to terms with your feelings for me then why do you wish it had never happened, Diarmuid?"

The guard opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. It was a good question, one that stumped even the lancer. After looking about as if he's solved this riddle he shook his head and just smiled. He turned toward Altria and placed his hand atop hers saying, "I can't answer everything at once, Altria. But I know that we somehow made this work and that's all that is important to me."

Satisfied, Altria leaned in and kissed the man. Enjoying their time alone, away from the world and resting peacefully in each other's embrace. But of course this couldn't last forever. A good thing never does.

It had happened exactly a week later. It was late and night at Altria had simply wished to spend an entire day with her daughter. She had had such a wonderful time with her that she had fallen asleep after putting the girl down. When she awoke it was late in the evening, the sun had already gone down and the room was silent—for but a moment.

Altria had heard something. It sounded as if someone else were in the room. She smiled and walked over to her daughter's room where she knew she'd find Diarmuid petting the girl's head and kissing her brow. She hadn't told the man that she'd be staying in the nursery because she hadn't planned on it. She guessed he knew her better than she thought.

Upon inspecting the being leaning over he daughter, Altria's heart flew to her throat. She was quick to grab a wooden pole near the toy chest and in an instant she lunged at the stranger and struck him down. The sound of his heavy fall awoke her daughter and Altria in an instant picked her child up into her arms and rushed out toward King Gilgamesh's room.

She hadn't disrupted the king from his slumber for he had been awake, looking at maps of the land whilst sipping on his wine. Altria had forced herself past the guards outside his door and burst into his room in a fear.

"My husband!" Altria cried out, coming toward the man who looked surprised to see his wife and daughter in his chambers without his permission. "Send forth your guard and scour the nursery. I did strike down an intruder whom meant harm upon your daughter!"

Gilgamesh looked at her quizzically before watching a few of his men enter into his room to apprehend his bride. He stayed them with a simple motion of his hand before he closed his eyes with a smile. He stood up and walked before his panicked wife before stretching out an arm and pulling her close.

"Now, now," he said, holding her as close as he could be so he could watch her squirm. "There is nothing to fear. My dear, I'm afraid you simply struck down one of my watchers."

"Your watcher?" Altria asked, trying to calm her weeping daughter down who too wanted to be out of the man's embrace. Gilgamesh simply nodded, letting his fingers rub circles on Altria's bare shoulder. "I've had to station them around you for the fear of you sending false information, like before."

Altria was honestly confused but greatly displeased that her husband had suddenly sent spies to watch her every move.

"Just a little while ago you informed me of a mysterious sickness that came about you, weakening your body," Gilgamesh continued. "Now would you care to bet coin on how my watcher measures the strength of your strike?"

"You're sending your men to spy on me?" Altria asked in an outrage. "Whilst I slumber, whilst I eat, whilst my daughter even plays?"

Gilgamesh held up his index finger and patted her upon the nose before moving away and pouring himself another glass of wine. "This is what a liar gets when she is dishonest to her husband."

"What is this really about?" Altria asked, holding her daughter close and narrowing her eyes at the upright form of the king.

"I can be a displeasing husband, Altria, just as you can be a displeasing wife!" Gilgamesh said, taking a long gulp of wine after those words.

"How dare you," Altria spat. "How dare you attempt to take away the only freedom I have from your presence!"

"I am king," Gilgamesh stated. "My rule is supreme. And you, my _queen_, should consider what a blessed position you sit in now. Of course, I am willing to offer you your freedom returned if you would simply share my bed at nights."

"No!" Altria spat. "I am no more obliged to lie under you as are you no more obliged to give attention to me. Why can't you keep a simple promise?"

"Why can't you?" Gilgamesh spat, tossing his cup to the ground, the sound of its shatter upset Igraine and little girl began to cry once more at the noise of her parents fighting. "I am the king and you are nothing without me and my rule! I shall make your life a living hell, Altria, because you have made mine the same. Wherever you go whoever you are with I will know and if I find those around you unpleasing then I shall remove them as I see fit!"

While Altria attempted to cover her daughter's ears to the shouting her memory suddenly clicked inside. She was brought back to a time when she was around the same age of Igraine. Her own mother held her in her arms and fought back her father who was demanding she give him a son. What a cruel man she married . . . so much like her father.

"Would you be happy, King Gilgamesh?" Altria asked. "If I gave you a son, would you be happy?"

"Any man would," Gilgamesh spoke plainly. "It is a means to carry on his blood; women on the other hand simply carry on another man's blood. They're useless to rule."

_'She's a useless heir, Igraine! I wish she had never been born! I wish I had wedded another!' _Altria closed her eyes and tried to protect her hurting heart, but now that those words became clear and the meaning and emotion her father spoke them with only damaged her frail organ more. She felt her eyes sting and it took every ounce of her being to stop those tears from showing in front of the golden king.

"Why," Altria started out slowly as she looked at her husband. "Would you want a son when you see yourself as a god? There's no need of one to take rule after you since you believe yourself to be immortal!"

With that, Altria turned on her heel and never looked back. She hadn't cared that Gilgamesh's watchers were watching her steps, watching her every movement. She was too upset to care.

When she had returned to the nursery and lulled her daughter to sleep, she sat herself in a wooden chair and began to cry. Why did becoming a queen have to ruin her ability to have a happy family? This urgency of a male heir seemed so pitiful to her when all a King cared about was a son, a single son. He could have many daughters and still be the most unhappy man in the world. Why? What was so wrong with daughters?

Sure they were the weaker sex. She knew this. She knew that she as well as the rest of the women in the world lacked muscle power like men, they lacked the height of men, they lacked the endurance but many a thing they shared with their counterparts. She knew that a woman could be just as wise as a man, just as quick, just as handsome and they could certainly lead if it called for it. So why did men persist on carrying on their bloodline, their family name?

To be immortal was the most common answer Altria had heard from men. Still, the simple peasant has five daughters and now he and his wife are far beyond child bearing age. Their daughters all wed handsome men and each of their daughters bear daughters and yet their father and their husbands are so happy. The only unhappiness that Altria has seen is in the noble class and in royalty. When the men are left without a male heir they become violent and beat their daughters and wives, blaming all their troubles upon them.

It just wasn't right and now, as Altria cried beside her daughter's bedside she remembered her mother doing the same and her heart broke because she remembered how much her mother wanted her to be free from this. She could see it in her mind—

_Her mother, Lady Igraine, had tears running down her face and yet she kept smiling for her daughter. Her hand had reached out and stroked the golden locks of her daughter's head. "Altria," she said through a sorrow ridden voice, "You grow up to be strong. Lead your people with wisdom and protect them with all the strength you have. Take on loyal knights who would die for you, but don't forget this most important thing, my love—"_

_Altria remembers her mother taking her in her arms and kissing her face. She still felt the wetness of her mother's tears upon her skin and remembered the sounds of the sobs between each word her mother said as she said this to her daughter—_

_"Don't forget . . . to be a woman."_

That was it. Her mother, though hated the fact that Altria was looked down unlike a son would, understood the fact that she was a girl and would grow into a woman one day who bore feelings of her own and showed emotions that no man would dare show to anyone, not even his spouse. Her mother had been strong and took pride in her gender and she wanted Altria to be the same and especially to never forget that she was a woman, not a man, but a woman.

"Mother," Altria cried, wishing with all her might that that woman's mighty embrace was there right now to engulf her. She had been her cornerstone through her childhood and into the beginning of her teenage life. When she had passed away she had felt as if she would fall off the face of a cliff, but her mother's words alone kept her strong as did her loyal and ever faithful knights. "Mother!" Altria cried out again, wishing ever so wishing that she could return to the day when she had been so little, wrapped into her mother's grown and clinging onto the woman's legs for dear life. "Mother!"

Queen Altria had been found by her guard, Gawain. He told his brothers that she had been crying out to her mother in the night, no slumber inside her eyes. This dampened her guard's spirit and they knew she was in distress. All of course knew it had to be the king and when they asked her, she did tell.

"I am sorry I haven't been strong for you lately," she admitted, sitting in a chair quietly while her entire guard stood before her with worried faces. "Lately, the demons inside my mind have been awakening and I simply cannot bear the world as it is."

"If you wish to run from this place, Altria, we can help you," they said. But she only shook her head saying, "I cannot leave Igraine." "Then take her with you!" Everyone turned toward Diarmuid who looked more angry than worried about this situation. "My queen," On bended knee he presented himself before her. "Can't you see your spirit is falling? This foreign king is changing you into someone I did not pledge my life to!"

"Then will you leave if I suddenly change altogether?" Altria asked, watching as her secret lover looked at her in shock before she moved on to everyone else. "Would any of you leave because I am no longer myself?"

"Forgive me, your majesty, I did not wish to imply—"

"No, Diarmuid, It is alright. I don't mind any one speaking their mind," Altria said. "But I cannot leave, no matter how my soul and spirit are tormented. My daughter is here and she is my husband's heir. I shall uphold to my promise and I swear that he shall uphold to his."

After this, Altria had explained how Gilgamesh had sent watchers to watch her and when they pledged they should keep her secret, she thanked them. But they might have a chance together to do this, while one alone does not and so later on after they had left and Diarmuid remained, Altria had told him to come closer.

"What is it, my queen?" Diarmuid asked, his voice low while he leaned against his queen's head to hear her softly spoken words.

"We can no longer continue to embrace each other in the night. I am sorry," she whispered to him. Diarmuid backed away, shock on his face, but Altria only closed her eyes and shook her head. "I care too much for your safety and so I beg of you to no longer come toward me or my daughter."

"But I am your guard," Diarmuid protested. "You simply can't tell me that I can no longer protect you."

"You know of what I say to you," Altria said, looking at the man in the eyes and then around them. "King Gilgamesh now sees everything and I'm sure he'd have his wife stayed from any man near her."

Though Altria had been speaking light words, the deeper meaning struck Diarmuid to the core. He looked as if he couldn't breathe and the way he stood there was obvious that the shock would not pass from him any time soon. Altria had sacrificed many a thing, but the love of a man she had come to love herself was hard and beyond any sacrifice to her.

When she stood up and made to leave, Diarmuid turned and grabbed her wrist. "Do not order this, Altria. Please." Altria was very good at acting like a man, to keep one's emotions in check in times like this did come of use to her, but only Diarmuid could tell that she was just a broken woman inside, on the floor, weeping her eyes out.

"You've protected me enough, Diarmuid. Now it is my turn," she said, but Diarmuid hadn't liked her answer. "I can protect myself!" he cried out. "I am not afraid of that man!"

Altria turned to him with sad green eyes. She shook her head and watched as Diarmuid reluctantly let go of her wrist and refrained himself. "If I say any more then I risk endangering your life. I'm sorry, Diarmuid, but know that my mother had a good choice in men." With a weak smile, Altria turned and walked off, out of the garden where she had gathered her guard to speak to.

After that she could hardly bare to look at Diarmuid. He still came around and offered his services as a guard, but even he had found it hard to look at her for too long. Altria knew it was best to no longer continue the affair for both their sakes but why then did she have that longing for him? If it felt that strong inside her, Diarmuid was much more passionate than she and so what was he feeling?

Still, Altria knew that what they had been doing was wrong, according to the Lord above. She was a married woman, albeit forced into the marriage by the dire circumstances at hand, but she still had a husband and for her to see another man beside her husband was said to be a sin. Again, she hated the man whom had been known to call her husband. Did God really make a marriage for this?

When she went back to her feelings everything about her affair with Diarmuid seemed justified in a weird way. Where there should have been feelings of guilt over her lack of faithfulness to her true husband, there was none. Where there should have been the urge of repentance from her sins of this affair, there was none.

Altria found herself in prayers often and in comfort her little girl would come up beside her and kneel herself to the ground imitating as her mother.

"I can pray with you too, mama," she said with a smile. Altria petted her hair and nodded. "Alright, I could use a little company."

So the two prayed together in the peace and quiet on the outside, but on in the inside Altria was hurting.

Igraine's 3rd birthday was approaching fast and with the preparations of the celebration in hand; Altria had found the solace she needed in the busyness of everything. She had surrounded herself with her maids and ladies in waiting to help this birthday become something special for Princess Igraine. She had met with cooks, seamstresses, and toymakers all in less than a week as her daughter's day of birth approached.

Of course she had many a child to invite and debated whether she should invite the entire children of the city or to simply have it smaller with just the children of the knights and nobles. She wanted it with more children than adult so that her daughter wouldn't have to be urged to grow too fast. Altria wanted her little girl to remain a child for as long as possible. She knew that when one was a child they were blinded to the affairs of the adult life, of the world and life seemed much more simpler.

Still, even in the midst of a child's dreams, the lives of an adult were always tormented. The Princess's father had insisted that the celebration remain inside the castle and that the only children invited were those of the nobles. Igraine had wanted all the children of the city to come and so she was greatly displeased with her father's decision, so much so that the little one had cried herself to sleep in the middle of the day.

Altria had put her to sleep upon her bed and stood next to her. Her ladies in waiting had been close and only sighed. "My lady, not every child can be granted their most innocent of wishes," they said. Altria nodded her head and sighed herself, saying, "I know this, but is it so wrong that she wishes to celebrate with all the children?"

"I should think not," they said. "But the king has already decided for her."

"Of course he has," Altria said. "Since when does that man care about his daughter though?"

While they still spoke to one another a sound from outside had silenced them. When they listened closer they all could have sworn they heard some shouting. "Who is that, I wonder," one her maid's said. Altria tried keening her ear to listen closer, but she couldn't and so she came toward the door and about just opened it herself. She didn't have to lift a finger as the door fell open with a guard of hers wrestling with one of Gilgamesh's watchers.

"Diarmuid!" Altria gasped, watching as her guard pressed on top of the man and punched the watcher in the face not once, not twice, but thrice as Altria called for him to stop. When her words fell on deaf ears she came up to the man and held his arm at bay before a fourth strike could smash into the beaten watcher's swollen face. "That is enough!"

Diarmuid turned to his queen and simply pulled his arm away from her. When he stood up he pointed toward the man and said, "If you want to keep your spies, fine, then I shall take my leave."

With that, he simply strode out of the room. Altria, as well as her maids had stood there with their mouths agape while they watched some of Gilgamesh's guard rush in and help the watcher to his feet. The crash and noise had woken up Igraine and when she cried for her mama, Altria was there by her side.

This hadn't been the first time a watcher had showed himself to the healers. No, there were even accounts of Lancelot as well as a few others of Altria's guard beating them, but when serious injury occurred, it was safe to assume Diarmuid was the guard who caused it. Gawain had gotten on his brother in arms for acting so brash and violent, but the guard only distanced himself from everyone.

He still did his duty and patrolled as ordered, but when a watcher he found, more than a few broken bones occurred. It was because of this that watchers seemed to vanish from Diarmuid's sight, of course leaving him and his queen to their privacy when he was on watch. Altria would have spoken to him about it and her fellow guard had wished she had, but she hadn't known what to say to him. Partly because she knew the reason why he acted like so.

On one day, when a particular watcher had fallen from the roof and hit himself on a balcony below, Diarmuid had been blamed. King Gilgamesh was furious and about had the man executed if not for Altria saving his life yet again.

"And just where are these witnesses?" Altria asked, about ready to take up sword and slice down Gilgamesh's men who had taken hold of her guard. Of course Diarmuid had struggled and about had a hand free before Altria showed up.

King Gilgamesh simply rolled his shoulders. "Does there have to be when he's been the most violent guard to my watchers?"

"He's simply defending my privacy," Altria spat. "Just so you know I was bathing when that watcher tried peering through the window. You would have your watchers look at your own wife like that?"

Gilgamesh frowned. He looked at Diarmuid and then toward his guard. With a flick of his chin his men let the guard go. He turned, but gave Altria a warning. "If my watcher dies, I will kill your guard. A life for a life."

Altria stared the man down before he disappeared out of sight. When she turned to Diarmuid the man had turned his face from her. "Are you alright?" she asked, coming closer to him.

"Stop trying to protect me!" Diarmuid demanded, shocking the queen with his tone. "It is not your duty, but mine and if I die because some watcher fell to his death because his eyes beheld you when . . ." Diarmuid motioned his eyes toward his queen's towel she had wrapped around herself. His fists shook against his sides and his eyes grew dark. "I wish he would die."

"And give, King Gilgamesh an excuse to rid you from this world?" Altria asked. "I will not give him the pleasure."

"Why?" Diarmuid asked, his tone sounded so upset. "I'm of no importance to you any longer."

With that he turned and walked off. Altria hadn't said anything because she knew no words would bring that stubborn man back. It wasn't true, what he said and she knew it. She still loved him with all her heart and having to let go was just as hard on her as it was on him.

There was still a part of Altria that hadn't let go. She wandered if she was the only one that felt like that.

A week before Igraine's birthday it had been informed of Altria that the watcher had not died, but he had not recovered fully either. His services as a watcher were cut due to the fact the man could no longer walk. Altria felt pity for the man in knowing he could no longer use his legs, but more so was she relieved that her guard's life was saved.

"Is that all you have to tell me, my queen?" Diarmuid asked as he stood there before Altria who had sat inside her room, eating a few treats her maids had given her before leaving for her meeting with the guard. "I have heard this already from Lancelot."

"Oh, well I'm sorry I had to repeat then," Altria said, placing her cup down on the silver tray. "Diarmuid . . ." The man looked up at her with golden eyes still showing bitterness and anger. "What you said before . . . don't believe your own words."

The guard said nothing; he just remained silent while his queen spoke to him. Altria looked around and smiled. "I truly do feel alone you know, my maids are gone and your reputation with finding watchers has them staying their eyes and ears until your shift is over. You've given me peace for but a little while and I thank you."

There was another silence before Diarmuid asked, "May I return to my post now, my queen?"

"Why must you remain angry at me?" Altria asked. "You see me as the enemy and that just isn't fair."

"Pardon me for speaking my mind without your say, queen, but it was you who decided to break off ties," Diarmuid said, all his anger in his eyes directed toward her and it hurt to see the man who used to look at her with so much love, bear so much hate toward her.

Altria cast her eyes down and sighed. "Then what would you have had me do?" Her voice was low, though knowing no one was listening or watching she still kept quiet. "Do you think I want you to die?" Again, the guard was silent. "Of course not. You mean too much to me and don't you forget that."

"I never have, Altria," Diarmuid replied, standing himself up straight and looking down at his queen. "But you . . . you tore me to pieces that day you said I couldn't be near you like before. I don't expect you to know the pain I felt, but I still am hurting."

"I suppose we'll hurt for a long time then," Altria agreed. "But you're a handsome man." There she was again, smiling at him so lovingly that Diarmuid was falling for her again, especially that soft womanly smile of hers. "There is many a lady in the land. I'm sure you'll eventually find one better." Altria couldn't bear the thought of admitting that and so she turned away from the guard and waved her hand at him. "You are dismissed."

When Diarmuid refused to leave and just stared at her like he used to all those nights ago, Altria wiped her stinging eyes. "You may leave, Diarmuid," she said once more. But still he stayed.

"No one can be better than you, Altria," Diarmuid whispered. When Altria turned she found the guard had walked closer to her, so close that his torso had touched her and she found herself ready to fall into his embrace. "No," she said, pulling herself away from him. "Don't you see I'm a married woman? This isn't right, Diarmuid. Not right at all."

"You don't think I know that?" Diarmuid asked, bringing up his hands to touch his lady's shoulders but he refrained himself and just stood there. "I am the betrayer of your marriage, Altria, and every day I pray that God Himself strike me dead because I cannot stop myself from loving you."

Altria turned to him, her eyes shining with tears. "I do so pray myself," she said. "But God does not answer my prayers more than he answers yours. I pray for the guilt I should have when I betray my lawful husband for the embrace of another I am not wed do. I pray that I stop thinking about such adulterous thoughts about a man I wish to make love to. But no . . . God's become deaf to this sinner's prayers. He knows that I am damned to Hell and I . . . I don't care. I want this, I want you, Diarmuid, but I can't have you, not like this."

"But you can," Diarmuid said, his voice getting softer as the rage in his eyes vanished and that passionate love returned once more as his face inched closer toward Altria. "I would gladly give myself to you and follow you into the pits of Hell if just to be with you in this life."

"If Gilgamesh were to find out he could harm you and in turn harm me," Altria said, a tear rolling down her cheek. "This is why I can't, this is why we mustn't."

"Altria," Diarmuid whispered her name so sensually that Altria had lost herself and forgot all else. Her hands came to Diarmuid's face and pulled him close so that their lips may touch. Diarmuid's hands were already unfastening the ties of her gown and before Altria even had time to comprehend anything; her guard had become her lover again by pressing her down onto her bed and making love to her.

It was the first time they had embraced each other in the middle of the day where a maid might walk in or a watcher be near. But they were alone and they knew it and so Diarmuid kissed Altria and Altria held the man close to her wishing that his embrace would last. Nothing ever did but in that moment the two felt relief and the weight of their sin was no more.

* * *

"You've been very emotional lately, Queen Altria," Elaine said with a smile as she helped fasten Altria's blue gown. "One moment you're weeping like it's the end of the world and the other you're as happy as can be, as if you weren't even wedded to King Gilgamesh. You're a true woman, milady." Altria giggled and then sucked in a breath when Elaine tightened her laces. "Easy, Elaine, I can't fit into each notch."

"I assume not," Elaine smiled when she loosened the laces. "At least you're gaining some weight. I remember before you would hardly eat, why you looked like a walking skeleton."

"She is right, milady," Gendella said as she continued her business, picking up Altria's laundry. "You've been walking more upright lately. Has all been going well with you and your husband?"

Altria only rolled her eyes and asked her lady, "Is Igraine ready? May you go check on her and the wet-nurse?"

"Yes, milady," her maid said with a nod as she left the room. Elaine only smiled and slid off of the Queen's bed. "There," she said, holding up her hands. "All finished. Are you ready for the celebration?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Altria said with a smile as she stood up and twirled in her dress. "My word, I haven't worn this dress in a long while. I'm amazed I still fit it."

"After slimming down to bones, you could fit any dress," Elaine said with a chuckle. Altria gapped at her and folded her arms.

"Elaine!" she gasped. "What offense!"

Elaine only giggled to herself before easing out a sigh. "Diarmuid purchased that dress for you, didn't he?"

"He did," Altria said with a nod.

Elaine leaned her chin on the palms of her hands and looked at the dress. "It was expensive. That man would jump off a bridge if you so told him to."

Altria nodded in agreement. "I know," she said with a smile. "He's been very good to me, too good."

"Lancelot told me he's been causing problems," Elaine explained.

"Everything is fine now," Altria answered. "I spoke with him."

"Oh, if only I had a band of knights like you," Elaine said, clasping her hands together.

Altria smiled and waved her off. "Come now, you have Lancelot. That noble knight is enough I should think. You're blessed to have been wedded to man like that."

Elaine blinked and looked at her queen with slight sadness. She took her hands in her own and smiled at her. "You deserve that happiness in your life as well, my queen. Who knows, maybe your king should slip and fall in the tub?"

Altria burst out laughing and the hysterical notion made Elaine laugh along with her. "Oh that would be wondrous, Elaine," she said while laughing before she shook her head. "A lady shouldn't think those thoughts about her husband. What mad ideas conceive in your mind when dear Lancelot upsets you?"

Elaine raised her brow and crossed her arms. "You should just have to guess," she said suggestively.

"Ah! Lady Elaine!" Altria gasped, smacking her playfully on the arm.

The two women giggled before Altria decided it had been time to go out into the gardens where the celebration was being held. Before she even left the door, Elaine had caught something. She noticed Altria kept adjusting her dress as if she had outgrown it or the likes of it.

"My lady, please wait," Elaine called out.

"What is it, Lady Elaine?" Altria asked as she turned to the older woman curiously. The brunette drummed her chin as she looked her queen up and down. Before Altria knew it, she had approached her and cupped her breasts. Of course she would have protested if Lady Elaine had been a complete stranger.

"What is the matter?" Altria asked, watching as Elaine's face turned into that of pure concentration. When she turned her around and looked at the notches on her laces she turned back to face her queen. "My Queen," Elaine began, fondling the blonde's breasts again. "Have you been feeling dizzy in the mornings?" Altria simply shook her head. "No, I haven't. Why, is there an issue?"

"Well, your body looks to be that of a woman with tell-tell signs of carrying a child," Elaine explained.

Elaine had never seen her queen's eyes widen to that degree. She had been there when they announced she was carrying Igraine, but she had been more relieved than surprised. Right now, the queen looked more so shocked than she had ever seen in her life.

"Are-Are you sure?" Altria asked.

"Look at your breasts," Elaine pointed. "I had noticed you were fiddling with your dress because of the cleavage you're showing. Your breasts, usually small, have grown quite a bit. My guess is they are filling with milk for a child you carry inside you."

"You can tell, just by my breasts?" Altria was truly confused. The doctors had told her when she had become pregnant with Igraine and it wasn't from the definite size of her breasts. In fact Altria was pretty sure she shrunk more than anything when she carried her daughter.

"You are rounding as well," Elaine noticed, looking at her face and hips. "You're not showing and the weight I thought was from better diet, but I do so believe you are with child. My lady, God blesses you with a fertile womb."

Altria, though still unsure about everything, placed her hand upon her belly. Of course she couldn't feel a thing but she wondered, oh she had wondered if there was a new life growing inside her.

"This would be a perfect gift for Igraine," Elaine smiled and about jumped up and down like some young teen girl. "The announcement of a younger sibling; she would like that."

"No! No," Altria stopped the woman. "Why not?" Elaine asked. "What can be more perfect than this?"

"Just wait," Altria bade. "I will tell her when I think the time is right."

"Very well, do what you will," Elaine said with a wave of her hand. "I suppose you could tell her after the party."

Altria actually didn't know when she would tell her little girl, or the others for that matter. Once one person knew, the kingdom was soon to follow. So a dread set into her upon realizing that the only bed she had shared with a man was Diarmuid's bed. By the grace of God a miracle had kept her out of Gilgamesh's but now if he knew then her affair with Diarmuid would likely be found out.

_God help me_, She prayed.

The party had set her on edge more than she would have liked. She sat next to her daughter and husband at the head at a table of their own, while the nobles, guards, and knights sat at the tables before them. They had brought out entertainers and gifts of all sorts for the princess and Altria was thoroughly amazed with how King Gilgamesh was paying attention to his daughter. Of course she didn't like it because she knew it was all just a show.

"My friends, and friends of my wife, I thank you all for coming," Gilgamesh said as he stood up and held his cup high. "My child has turned the tender age of three and wished to exclaim it to the heavens. Why don't we try this with shouts of praise to God?"

With shouts above, everyone raised their cups and praised the birth of Igraine. The little girl copied suite and everyone smiled at her. Altria though hadn't smiled too much and a few had noticed her odd behavior.

Altria had felt eyes upon her and when she looked toward Diarmuid she noticed his eyes looking at her curiously. He was drinking his wine along with everyone else, but inwardly he was asking why she looked that way. How could she answer him back? She didn't know what to say.

In the end as everyone drank and communed with one another Gilgamesh leaned over to his wife and petted her thigh. "Why are you so quiet, dear wife? You're starting to upset Igraine."

Just by saying her daughter's name, Altria was angered. How dare he even speak the name of a girl he refused to acknowledge of as his own? Well he was a good actor to the people, but after they would leave then he would revert back to his old habits of cursing her and her daughter. This she knew as truth.

Suddenly Altria watched as Gendella came up to her, all smiles as she pressed against her queen. "Milady," she said. "Do not forget to tell Igraine of your gift."

"What gift?" Altria asked, looking toward her daughter who was merrily playing about with the other children. "She has already received mine."

She looked toward Gilgamesh who was watching on in curiosity. But the maid persisted. "Don't tell me you have forgotten?" Altria honestly had no idea what her maid had been speaking of and as the lady in waiting stood up and called the attention of everyone at the celebration, it wasn't until after her maid had announced it that Altria remembered the secret she wished to keep.

There were loud cheers and a thunderous sound of clapping. Altria sat there, for a second she looked in great distress, but as her child bounded to her and hopped onto her lap, Altria looked down at her and smiled. Her little girl was looking around as if to find her little sibling.

"Where are they?" she asked. "Where are you keeping them?"

"They will take a little while to come, Igraine. Be patient," Altria instructed. "Okay!" her little girl said as she hugged her mother. Altria though looked toward her husband who was smiling and waving at his congratulators. She was surprised that he was doing this, but as he glanced upon her she noticed the malice in his scarlet eyes. Of course he was a master of disguise and shifted that malice to pleasant surprise while his men came to him and shook his hands.

The queen simply sat there, still in her own shock. When her daughter had hopped off her lap and ran to play with little Galahad, Altria turned and looked toward Diarmuid who looked the most surprised out of all her guard. His eyes did nothing to hide his surprise and his parted lips made Altria know of his shock. But did he know . . . that the child inside her was his?

* * *

**TheThirdTime'sACharm: Yay for medeival scandal! And for Kings being utter buttholes to their wives for not giving them "heirs" (aka. Sons). **

**Oh poor Altria, first she became a queen at a young age in a male dominated world and then she was forced to give up her throne and marry a jerk of a husband (albeit powerful king), then she happens to finally fall in love with another man . . . of course _after_ marriage . . . only to end upsetting her husband twice; the first time with giving birth to a daughter instead of a son and then concieving again but the child is not his. Well, this will not end well . . .**

**Stay tuned!**


	5. The Price of Infidelity

That night, after the party ended and the servants began cleaning everything, Altria had been utterly surprised that her husband had simply walked away without further input. She knew the man knew the child was not his. They had not shared a bed since Igraine's conception. In fact, sex was only thought of by Altria as a means to have children in the beginning, thus she had laid under Gilgamesh to conceive his "firstborn heir" but after her love affair with Diarmuid began she had forgotten that sex was a means to conceive a child. The man had loved her so greatly that sex was more than just for bearing children; it was a means to connect to a lover, to another human being.

Honestly, she was just surprised that she had forgotten the possibility of conception. The child inside of her was not unwelcome, just unexpected.

Once Gilgamesh and his guard had left the darkening gardens with a polite farewell, Altria's guard assumed it was safe to approach her and the subject on which they were about to dive into.

"I would say congratulations, but I am wary with the blessing," Lancelot said as he approached Altria who had been currently holding onto a slumbering Igraine; her daughter had worn herself out celebrating her birthday.

"I must concur with Lancelot," Gawain spoke up as he crossed his arms, looking at his queen with worry. "I do know your relationship with your husband has been outwardly scorned and so I must wonder if the conception of your child was a pleasant one."

"We know the king wants a male heir which you refuse him," the others spoke up. "So we ask you, my lady, did he force himself upon you?"

"You think your queen so weak before that man?" Altria asked, her hate for the golden king clearly in her tone of voice as well as glare. "I would have happily castrated him if he dared harm me like that."

"As would we," Diarmuid spoke up, looking at his fellow guard who all nodded in agreement.

"Did you come to terms to give him another child?" Lancelot asked, everyone wanted to know.

Altria glanced a look toward Diarmuid before she realized that Gilgamesh's watchers were around. She smiled softly and placed a hand over her belly still flat. "Just know you this that I am happy I am with this child. So be happy for your queen. There was no grief in this one's conception."

With that she curtsied to them and then turned with her maids to take her daughter back to the nursery. Her men though had stayed behind and discussed their thoughts.

"She seems genuinely happy," Gawain deducted. "But why has she decided to do this for that king? I had come to think that she refused to give him another child."

"She's not telling us something," Lancelot said. "It is strange though, even before she would decide to grant the king another child she would have consulted us."

"She probably didn't tell us because of the watchers," Diarmuid said, clenching his fists. "Those damn leeches."

"Then how would we know?" Gawain asked. "She usually doesn't hide something from us for long."

"She'll tell us in her own time," Lancelot informed. "I am just relieved that she is so welcoming of this child. She seemed truly happy for once."

"You think so?" Diarmuid asked. "She hides her feelings well at times like these."

"But we're her guard," Lancelot informed. "We're closest to her and so we know when she's truly happy or being tortured. I believe the first is the answer."

It was. Altria had spent several days in solace, coming to terms with her new child. She would often sit by herself, patting her abdomen as if it was already rounded with a growing babe. Her smile seemed to never vanish and in those days Altria felt as if she were in Heaven.

She was slightly saddened that she had yet to feel the child within her, but knowing it was there was more important. One would think she would become afraid in this time, especially when her husband had not spoken to her about "their" child, but Altria let her feelings of happiness and joy overrun her worries for a while. It lightened her spirit and brought up her heart.

Her maids were the only ones to see her as of late and when Altria's men had asked of her condition, the women would only smile and softly explain to them how their queen was glowing. That answer was enough for most of them, but Diarmuid had looked into a way to see his queen.

He knew he could no longer stalk in the night or wait in the nursery like he had used to, not with the watchers around and of course Altria hadn't wanted him to kill anyone and so seeing her was slightly harder than before. So he took the straightforward approach.

"I need to see the queen," he told the maid at the door who further refused to open the door to him.

"I will ask her," the maid said as she closed the door and had him wait. After a moment, the maid opened the door with a soft smile. "I am sorry, but the lady doesn't wish to be disturbed at the moment."

Before Diarmuid could ask any more, the door was shut on his face. Of course he was known to be a stubborn man. With great force he forced the door open, startling the maids and even Altria who had been sitting in her bed while reading a Bible. The maids proclaimed him to leave, but he locked eyes onto his lover and the contact didn't break.

He simply pushed past the maids and took up the queen from her bed and walked out of the room with her, leaving many a lady in waiting in a fitful rage.

"Diarmuid, what are you doing?" Altria asked as he placed her atop his black stallion and then mounted the steed. He turned and couldn't help but smirk as a few watchers came running up, trying to keep their eyes on Altria. With a kick in the side he rode off, out of the castle gates and then out of the city. The route Diarmuid took was familiar and Altria sighed when she found herself at the spring where she and her men would bathe.

Diarmuid took her in his arms once more and then sat her down next to the cooling spring. Very casually he took off his queen's slippers and then guided her legs and feet into the water. She only smiled when he looked at her and offered a wink.

"You do have some explaining to do," she said with a small laughter as he took a seat next to her, but did not touch the water.

"Had to get you away from the watchers," Diarmuid explained. "I know they don't know of this place."

"King Gilgamesh will not be happy," Altria warned, though lightly after she chuckled more.

"Are you sure?" Diarmuid asked. "I thought he would be happy now that you are expecting again."

Altria's eyes fluttered before she glanced down. "No, I should think he'd be upset more than anything." As Diarmuid looked toward his queen he watched as the small girl took his hand in hers and then placed it over her belly. "Feel your child, Diarmuid."

The guard's drooping eyes widened and his gaze fixed upon his lover and then on the belly that held a tiny child inside it. Back and forth he looked before Altria placed both of her hands over his and smiled softly at him. "I've not shared Gilgamesh's bed since Igraine." With that said Diarmuid broke out into the happiest smile Altria had ever seen and she instantly fell in love with it and wished to see it again.

"Oh!" Altria gasped as Diarmuid suddenly stood himself up and then took hold of her and lifted her off the ground, twirling her around in glee. She giggled and held onto his arms tightly before he wrapped them around her waist and brought her close. When they kissed Altria had never felt so complete and she knew Diarmuid felt the same. "You're going to be a father, Diarmuid," Altria whispered against his lips and rubbed her knuckles against the man's jaw.

Diarmuid nodded and hugged her close. He didn't have to say any more. He was the happiest man on earth and nothing nor could anyone take that happiness away from him.

The two had spent hours there, laying against each other, daydreaming of the future and of their little one. Diarmuid's hand was currently being fiddled with by Altria's own slim fingers as they thought of this.

"The child must look like you," Altria ordered. "Igraine already has taken so much from me that I wish this child to take after their father."

"Fine, but they have to bear your eyes," Diarmuid said, looking down at the woman in his arms who simply looked up at him and smiled before laying her head back down on his arm. "Very well," she said with a smile.

It was nice, having both parents know and so expectant of this unborn child. Altria couldn't be more happy, though she knew her happy future would only last a little longer in her dreams. Still, right there, in the arms of the father of her child she felt content and knew this child was no sin.

The matter on what to tell the others confused both Altria and Diarmuid. While they wanted to let Lancelot and the others know they knew that Altria had to at first gain the trust of her people once more. She had a plan on how to announce this child as only hers, one with no relation to her foreign husband.

While her people were all righteous and spiritual people, she feared a rejection. But that fear was sated by Diarmuid who informed her that their hate for King Gilgamesh and anything of him would prove greater and so acceptance of her child they would have more so than hate. So Altria ultimately would decide on when she would announce the child's heritage.

Diarmuid hadn't liked the thought of letting the rest of his brothers in arms find out with the rest of the population, but his queen ordered him to silence his lips until then. The man had been so excited it seemed like a weak command, but he abided by his queen's wish and stayed silent, but the excitement and joy in his eyes sparkled brightly and the others did notice his change of mood.

"What is with you today?" Gawain asked, raising his brow as he watched Diarmuid lay there in the dirt after Lancelot had brought him down after merely two strikes.

The lancer simply laughed and reached out to the blue skies above. "It's a great day to be alive!" he exclaimed.

Lancelot and Gawain shared glances, but they weren't the only one to notice Diarmuid's odd behavior. It wasn't always for the best either. Three watchers had been sent to the healers after a violent encounter with Diarmuid who had been posted as Altria's guard in later days. As promised, he had not killed any of the watchers but great wounds did he inflict and it was because of this that King Gilgamesh was growing irritated with the freedom he had given his wife and those she surrounded herself with.

Thanks to Diarmuid, the guard gave his queen the privacy to call him into her room and let him feel her slowly growing belly. She was just a mere few months along but she had begun to round and Diarmuid did voice how glad he was that his child put meat on their mother's bones than tear it away like Igraine had.

The Princess herself was always beside her mother. Feeling her younger sibling and often asking when they would come. Day after day, Altria had to explain to her daughter that the child would not come unless her belly was very round and so because of that Igraine would come into her mother's room and pout, saying that her belly wasn't round enough. That little girl could become so impatient.

Still, Altria dreaded the day when her husband would appear and speak to her. It had yet to happen and Diarmuid had told her to keep her thoughts clean of him, but when one was married to that man, one couldn't help but know he was smart and that could get her secrets into trouble.

In fact, Gilgamesh was waiting on his watchers to give him information. Beyond annoyed with their failing to give him any information on his queen he told his guard this—

"The child is not mine." With that he did receive shocked glances from his men. "My wife has refused to come to my bed and it seems she's fled to another's."

"That's adultery," his men said. "We could be rid of her this way."

"No," Gilgamesh said. "Whether she's slept with another man or a dog, her people would have her alive. I cannot rule over them without her life in my hands. But I have yet to receive any information as to whose bed she's run to."

"The queen's guard has kept the watchers at bay," his men informed. "More so since she is carrying another child."

"I know," Gilgamesh informed. The golden king then smiled a sinister smile. "But I do need to teach my queen a valuable lesson soon. She needs to learn she can't go hopping from one bed to another. I'll find out who the father is."

"How?" his men asked.

Gilgamesh merely smiled, this king was too conniving.

* * *

The queen had been in the process of playing with her daughter in the nursery when she was called before her husband. She had been escorted to the throne room by her guard and when she arrived she noticed that the nobles and generals were surrounding Gilgamesh. He smiled at her and motioned her closer.

"Ah, my expecting wife, how goes things with our child?" Gilgamesh asked as he looked down at her slowly swelling belly. Altria bowed her head and placed her hand upon her stomach. "All things are fair, my husband."

Gilgamesh nodded before turning toward everyone gathered. "I have summoned you here to speak of the child actually," He told her while Altria steeled herself for what was to come if it be anything bad. "Before you arrived I was telling everyone how our relationship had started out horribly in the beginning of our marriage." Altria had to keep herself from nodding her head in agreement. "And after you gave birth to our daughter, Igraine, I had lost myself with the disappointment that she was not a son." Just where was Gilgamesh going with this? Altria looked toward her guard who were right behind her, all of their hands on their weapons in caution to the way this king spoke.

Gilgamesh noticed his queen's guard but smiled their way. Of course he was not afraid and continued on.

"But as you all can see, we reconciled when Altria came to me late one night and explained her own grief for not bearing me a son. She promised me that she would honor her husband and grant me a second child. As of now we hope it is a boy and if so he shall reign after me."

Altria heard her guard begin to act up behind her. Particularly she heard Diarmuid and what it sounded like was he and Lancelot were appalled. Diarmuid, though, had better reasons. She noticed that Gilgamesh was looking toward her guard again and she feared he might know something he shouldn't and so she stood before him and said, "Let it be known that my husband is not in his right mind." Turning toward the congregation, the queen said, "It is true that there was talk of two children, but King Gilgamesh had claimed my firstborn as his heir. He expected a son, but received a daughter instead. His word still stands and the princess, Igraine, is his heir. But the second child he promised to me as my heir, regardless of gender. Our relationship has not mended."

"Stop lying, Altria," Gilgamesh said, sitting upright. "I will not stand for that in my throne room."

The two royals about broke out in heated argument, but Altria stayed herself for reverence to those around. Her small hands clenched tightly together and she swore she felt Diarmuid's heated glare upon her, urging her to defend herself and her child—their child.

"If you are upset for me disregarding Igraine so publicly then let me make you this promise. If our second child is another daughter then Igraine shall become my heir," Gilgamesh stated.

Altria though turned to him with a harsh glare. "That's not the problem and you know it!"

Gilgamesh simply chuckled and looked toward his audience. "Forgiveness, but her moods tend to change suddenly when she is carrying." There were a few laughter in the crowd and it caused a nasty reaction from Altria's guard.

"How dare you disrespect you wife like this, King Gilgamesh!" Gawain stepped forward with a shout. "Can't you see she is in a delicate condition and should not be called upon for mere entertainment?"

"This is proclamations, not entertainment, I can assure you, guard," Gilgamesh informed. "But I do not recall giving you permission to speak."

"Leave my men out of this!" Altria bade, her eyes glowing with a fierce light. Gilgamesh simply rolled his shoulders. "I couldn't agree more," the king said. "In fact they will be replaced with my own guard. I feel you are indeed carrying a son and as my heir I cannot allow ones I do not trust to protect him."

"Don't you come near our queen!" Diarmuid cried out as he and the others pulled Altria back within their circle. Gilgamesh's guard came near and brought out their own weapons. Lancelot took a step forward next to Diarmuid in an attempt to make the king see his errors. "King Gilgamesh!" he cried out. "You would have your men spill blood in this time of peace? In this throne room? Amongst your own men?"

"You're not my men," Gilgamesh explained with a frown on his face, so uncaring of what became of their lives. "And frankly I don't trust you near my wife, near my heir!" Gilgamesh then stood up and pointed toward them. "Now step away from my wife and lay down your weapons or I shall order my guard to protect my queen from enemy persons."

Of course Altria's guard stood their ground and the moment the first weapon was thrown at them Altria cried out for them to stop. Diarmuid had met the weapon with his spear; he knocked the sword out of the man's hand and kicked him fiercely across the room. The moment that guard was down, two more ran after them but just as Lancelot raised his own sword to aide Diarmuid, the lancer had already knocked the two guards to the ground and raised his long spear, pointing it toward the king.

"The child is mine, and if you dare come near the queen once more then I shall kill in defending what is mine!" The lancer declared, his golden eyes dark with threat and warning.

Altria's entire body encased itself into an icy tomb. Her eyes widened as her secret lover declared this before her husband—before everyone present. When she saw Gilgamesh smirk she realized he had planned this. She realized he had set this all up just to follow through like so to where the true father's pride would be forced out in defending his claim. "Diarmuid," Altria whispered in shock as she watched Gilgamesh turn to the man and point toward him.

"Guard, bring the traitor to his knees!" Gilgamesh ordered and suddenly all of Gilgamesh's guard attacked Diarmuid. Lancelot and the others were quick to defend him and soon blood had been spilt on the marbled floors.

Altria knew she couldn't just stand there and so took up a sword from one of her guard and delved into the fight. It was her blade that stopped the quarrel as it struck between Diarmuid's spears and the swords raining down upon him by Gilgamesh's guard. The men were utterly shocked that she would throw herself into a fight like that whilst carrying.

"This ends here!" she shouted, commanding both with her tone to desist. When they stepped away she turned toward his husband. "You! How dare you do this! You knew this child wasn't yours and yet you continued to lie before everyone, shame on you!"

"Shame on you, my unfaithful wife," Gilgamesh said. "It appears you've taken on a secret lover under my knowing. What would your kingdom think of their pure saint of a queen?"

Altria bit her lip and looked back toward the nobles in the room who looked horrified more than shocked. They were whispering amongst themselves and Altria knew she couldn't have it end like this. She turned toward them and placed a hand over her heart.

"I do so ask for your forgiveness for the deceit I have wrought within my marriage," Altria said, bowing her head before them. "But let the sin be upon me and upon Diarmuid. My child though is of no blame. This is my second child and therefore, in concordance to King Gilgamesh's words so long ago, this child shall be my heir and will rule this kingdom after King Gilgamesh. I ask you to accept this child so innocently born into this world to fulfill this destiny."

The nobles became quiet and it was then Gilgamesh walked beside her and pulled her to his chest. "Yes, let the sin be upon you and your _lover_." with that he turned toward Diarmuid who had been singled out from the rest of Altria's guard and seized. He had dropped his spears but not his fighting spirit. "You do realize that the sin of an adulterer is that of death."

Altria knew this, she had been witness to a few executions of this case, but never in her life had she thought this would fall upon her own head. Gilgamesh pulled her closer to where her head rested against his neck. "However, the kingdom shall not lose their queen. She must go on, but her lover on the other hand . . . well, the good Lord's angels certainly aren't staying the blade from his neck."

Altria watched with wide eyes as Gilgamesh brought in the executioner. She watched Diarmuid struggle in place. He was about ready to fight once more and in doing so more blood would be spilt and more than likely it would be from Altria's guard.

"Wait!" she called out, turning to her husband. "I do know of the law, but for me, spare his life."

"Why should I, whore?" Gilgamesh asked, his scowl and disgust of her clearly shown to her and everyone in the room as written on his face. "I would say you've rutted with all of your mongrel men but you did present yourself a virgin to me. I shall save past respect I suppose. What would you have me do to your lover, hm? I cannot allow him to remain here any longer."

"Then let him leave this kingdom," Altria begged.

"Say I do," Gilgamesh began, looking toward her other men. "Who's to say you don't pick for yourself another bastard lover amongst your men?"

Altria shook her head, feeling the tears sting her eyes she turned and smiled at Diarmuid, for the first time she let love show outwardly upon her face. "He is the only one I have loved. This I swear to you."

"I am sorry, but I simply can't do that," Gilgamesh said, placing a hand over his head. Altria looked beyond desperate and watched Gilgamesh motion toward the lancer. "He is not sworn to me. With your own word you'll have to banish him from this land."

Diarmuid gasped and then struggled against his captors. "You coward of a king!" He spat. "Just send the executioner and see who will become the executed! Don't you force this upon the queen."

"No, I haven't forced this upon her, you have, betrayer," Gilgamesh said, showing hatred toward the lancer. "You, being so selfish, took the wife of another man. There is no place here for traitorous thieves."

Altria stood there, listening to the argument before she walked up to her lover. He looked shocked that she had made it to him so fast but as she raised her head she looked at him with such sad eyes that soon that same sadness began peeling itself away in even Diarmuid.

"Diarmuid," Altria began. The soldier pulled himself away from those holding him and stood before his queen straight. "Altria," he whispered. "Don't give in to him." But Altria simply closed her eyes and said, "Hence was your life sworn to me—"

"No, don't do this!" Diarmuid begged.

There was nothing so dishonoring than a knight being banished from the kingdom he swore himself to. "Now I am releasing it and banishing you as a traitor. Leave this kingdom and never set foot on this land again." Altria spoke her final order so slowly as if she were dead. Once she finished she watched Diarmuid die inside. His once bright eyes closed and never more were they as vibrant when he looked at her again.

Her men around her all closed their eyes; solemn as they were they were in pain as well. Losing Diarmuid struck everyone in the heart. He had been Queen Altria's very first knight and now, he was being banished—an end for Diarmuid none would have ever thought.

Altria turned from her once faithful subject and contained her bitter tears. She could no longer look upon him and she prayed that this spared his life.

"Leave now before the grace of the queen falls undertow by the rage of the king," Gilgamesh commanded, his scarlet eyes burning a bright fiery red that did threaten death.

Diarmuid had been in such a shock that he had forgotten how to move. When he did he simply knelt down and picked up his spears. Turning toward his brothers he saw their saddened eyes all gazing upon him. Closing his eyes he shook his head as if trying to wake from a nightmare, but he was awake and this was reality.

He turned one last time to look back at his queen, his lover. He could see she was shaking. She could no longer refrain her emotions from sight. Everything inside him tried to get to her and hold her in his arms to comfort her, but he had neither the will nor time to do so.

"Speak no more words and leave," Gilgamesh let out his final warning and watched with utter pleasure as his wife's true love had pushed passed his friends and left the room in silence. All that was left was the sound of his retreating footsteps and eventually they even silenced. "Well," Gilgamesh said with a sigh as he sat himself back on his throne. "Now that we have cleared the sin amongst us I would like to discuss something with my wife in private."

Reluctantly Altria's remaining guard left the room with the nobles and Gilgamesh's guard. Altria still stood where she was, shaking and watching with horror as her tears fell down at her feet where Gilgamesh could see them. "Are you crying?" Gilgamesh asked with a chuckle. "Well, they had better be tears of repentance."

"Shut up," Altria whispered before she whipped around and glared at the man she hated above the devil himself. "Shut up! You have no right telling me what I should and should not be doing! You, yourself, have your damn whores with you at nights so why can't I claim a lover?"

"You're a woman," Gilgamesh said with a chuckle. "There are differences, my little wife. But interrupt me again and I shall make sure you never see Igraine again." After straightening Gilgamesh raised his hand and pointed toward his wife's belly. "After that bastard is born you will return to my bed and bear me a son."

"I don't have to," Altria said, looking at him. "You stated that I have only two children. This child shall be my last. This I swear."

When Altria turned and began walking away from her husband the man stood up and shouted, "I could have you tumble down the staircase or hit in your sleep! You want that child to be your last then it will be."

Altria turned to him, no fear or anything else in her eyes as she stared at him. "I have never feared you, Gilgamesh and I can protect myself from you and your men."

With that she left the king and hearing his angry cry would have brought pleasure to her ears, but her emotions were killed that day and she just couldn't feel anymore.

* * *

"I knew I'd find you here, Diarmuid."

The dark-haired man turned to watch as Gawain came up to him, his eyes hard upon him. "You'd really do this, after all of that?"

"What else can I do?" Diarmuid asked, closing his eyes and placing his hand on the small boat that reminded him so much of the one he arrived in, all those years ago. "If I do not leave then I'm sure Gilgamesh's men will hunt me down. I can fight many of them but not forever and if I were to be slain by them then Altria . . . our queen would die. I would never be able to forgive myself."

"I should have known, I suppose." Diarmuid turned toward Gawain who glanced down in pity. "All the signs were there, I was just too blinded to it."

"What would you have done if you would have known?" Diarmuid asked. "You're a righteous man, Gawain, you always have been. I know what I did was wrong but if so then why didn't I feel guilty from loving another man's wife?"

"Hatred can cloud many things, even guilt" Gawain said, feeling the breeze of the ocean press against him was almost calming, almost.

"In the moments when I loved Altria, there was no hate for the king because there was no king. Just her and me," Diarmuid explained as he tossed his spears into the boat and pushed it out toward the ocean. As he stepped into the boat and seated himself, Gawain came close and said, "I will come to you, or another and give you message of this kingdom. You're still my brother in arms, Diarmuid, and I will always honor your loyalty to the queen."

Gawain hit his chest with his fist and Diarmuid smiled and did the same. With a nod he took up oars and looked at the blond with hard eyes. "Just give me a reason to return and I will."

With that he pressed off shore and was lost in the fog. Gawain felt as if a life old friend had just gone. He had known Diarmuid for a long time and had fought alongside him in many battles and so seeing his brother go was hard. But he just couldn't imagine how the queen felt.

"You really did love her, didn't you, Diarmuid?" Gawain sighed out into the ocean waves knowing that the queen's true love had just left their isle. And what was to become of him? It was hard to say right now.

* * *

Lancelot watched gravely as his queen laid in her bed, her daughter lain asleep in her lap while her mother ran her fingers gently through her hair. Her belly had swelled quite a bit the past few months and the more the child grew within her the more the child laid their self in harm's way. King Gilgamesh had not been speaking tall tales when he threatened Altria and the safety of her pregnancy.

Right after Diarmuid had been banished, the golden king had sought out to make his queen expel the child from within her. The queen had almost fallen off of her bed numerous nights by the disappearing watchers and then there had been one case when something had been tossed from a balcony and almost hit her when she rested outside in the garden. The tumble down the staircase had frightened her and when she went to her doctor the man informed her the child had been safe.

Of course when he gave her a remedy medicine Altria had tossed the poison back at the doctor and nearly killed the man for siding with the king to execute her second born, her promised heir. Her knights had stopped her and therefore promised that they should take turns forming a circle around her. She hadn't minded that they came to enclose her closer. Even when she bathed she had not minded that a few of her men were mere feet from her, watching and making sure her maids even had no ill thought toward her or her child.

Lately, the queen had been receiving poisoned food unfit for a lady expecting a child and so her guard had to follow the cooks and when her meal was prepared they had to watch closely as they made the meal and then when they handed the dish to a maid they made sure to follow closely. These precautions exhausted Altria to no end and now she remained bedridden with her daughter close and her second child growing by the day, swelling her belly.

Altria began to rub her belly with her free hand while her other continued to pet her daughter's head. She loved her children too much to lose them, especially the one who had yet to receive a chance to live in this world. It was unfair with how much hatred was directed toward her second child. Of course she supposed it was right, since the child had been conceived through an unholy affair. Still, her husband had no right to say the child itself was wrong, no right at all.

"My lady, you need to get some rest," Lancelot said, watching as his disheartened queen continued to rub her belly. "For the sake of your unborn child heed my suggestion."

"I am unable to sleep this night," Altria admitted. "Forgive me but the child within me is restless."

Lancelot understood, his own wife had claimed the same when she had carried their son, Galahad. Often times Elaine had laid awake during the nights because of the child within her. Still, the dark circles under his queen's eyes meant she had been up during more than just one night previously.

"Even babes must rest within their mother," Lancelot informed. "Do not let your troubling thoughts dissuade you from a slumber befitting of you and your child."

Altria remained silent. She had closed her eyes but continued to lay in her sitting position. Lancelot watched as her hand rubbing her belly began to almost press deeper. It was a sign she was frustrated. Much has happened these past few months.

"I often fear," Altria began as she opened her eyes to gaze into the darkness surrounding her and Lancelot whom stood watch over her as she slumbered this night. "That I cannot go on without the father of this child near me."

Diarmuid; he had been the main cause of Altria's grief. The mere fact that she had banished her secret lover took a heavier toll than King Gilgamesh's threat upon her child and heir. She never forgave herself for heeding to Gilgamesh and banishing the man. It is true she was grateful that he still yet remained of this world, but of that fact she was tormented.

Continuously she thought about the man. She often wondered if he hated her now for banishing him from her face and taking away his chance to see the birth of his child. She often wondered if he had made himself at peace and taken another woman to him as he had been so common of doing, perhaps even starting a clan of his own.

Lancelot knew sorrowful grief when he saw it. It had been written all over his queen's face, though no tears came. She had already finished up the last ounce of her tears. These past months had dried every one up.

"Enough with this, Altria!" Lancelot spoke commandingly as he strode up to his queen's bed side and dropped to his knee. "Do not downcast yourself like so. You chose the better path and saved his life. How can he hate you for this? How?"

"He had once told me that if death's embrace sought him once more that I should not stop it again and I did," Altria said.

"Altria, I, along with the rest of my brothers, had not known of your love affair with Diarmuid, though when brought to light I had come to easily accept it. It was clear that Diarmuid loved you with all his heart and that you had come to love him just as much. So tell me why, after all of this, would he forsake your thought and that of the life the two of you have been given by God Himself?"

There was always an uncertainty within Altria these days. Though there shouldn't be. Everyone had known Diarmuid and if he were to fall in love with a woman than that woman would likely be the last one he ever loved on this earth.

"I just want him to be happy," Altria admitted, her head low.

Lancelot let out a sigh and placed his iron-clad hand on hers and smiled comfortingly at her. "I am sure he wishes the same," the guard said. "So grant him this wish and smile at his memory. Become a good mother for the child he cannot raise and help this child grow in stature and strength."

"What shall I tell this child when they ask of their father?" Altria asked. "They will come to hate me when they know it is I who banished their father from their eyes."

"It was either that or death, Altria," Lancelot stated. "You both knew this."

Altria nodded before glancing out of her window at the starry night. She desired to escape into the dark-haired man's embrace and for him to kiss her and touch her and to make love to her as he had before. But her bed was cold of his heat and the walls hollow from his presence. He was nowhere to be found and she prayed that he remember her always as she will.


	6. A Banished Traitor

"Much thanks to ye, Diarmuid," the old farmer said as he smiled at the younger male with a mouth almost as barren as the hairs upon his head. "It would have taken me weeks to bring in the harvest with this old body of mine."

"You're stronger than you think, old man," Diarmuid teased as he scooped up a handful of water from the pail the farmer had brought for him and splashed it upon his naked torso. "It's a hot day."

"There's a watering hole down by the trees over there," the old farmer had said. "Take ye a rest from the rest of the day's work. Ye earned it."

"Much obliged," Diarmuid thanked as he took up his shirt and walked down to the water. There he smiled at the small pond and when he tested its depth he grinned even broader. The cool water was nice in the hot sun like this and after such a hard day taking in the harvest the man was exhausted. After all, he was the only farmhand the old man had. The man being much too poor to hire one and after being a widower for a few years, he was all alone.

Diarmuid had come to him, asking for a place to stay and of course offering his services. The man had been so nice to him and so glad much more for the company that the younger man provided. Diarmuid of course enjoyed his company as well, it had been a rough boat ride to the isle and any friendly face he was thankful for in the undoubtedly hardest time in his life.

While he waded there in the pond and let the cool autumn's breeze pass over his skin Diarmuid let his eyes scan the green lands of his birthplace. This isle his queen had forbid him to think of back when the war of the isles had torn his heart apart. He had not hated her for forbidding him to think of his old friends and his family and the life he once had here but now that he had returned to the only place he could think of that would take him back he couldn't help but feel as if he walked upon foreign soil and that he was as a nomad in a strange land.

It had been three hard months that Diarmuid had to endure, being away from his brothers in arms and his queen especially. He had missed her the most. At nights whilst sleeping in the stable he had found himself holding his bag close as if it were his lover herself. Often times her scent would reenact within his nostrils and it would only take him back to the castle of which his queen had owned where he would stand in her presence and remain peacefully still while she sat quietly upon her throne.

Even now when he waded within the water he couldn't help but miss the springs with which he, his queen, and his best friends would bathe and bond in. He wondered if she would know that he was no longer around. Perhaps, or perhaps not so because of the fact she was no doubtingly growing full with child as he thought about this . . . growing full with _his_ child.

When Queen Altria had informed him of her pregnancy, Diarmuid had been flying as high as a sparrow up in the skies. He had never been as happy as he had then. The thought of becoming a father through the means of Altria herself giving him a child, it was more than he could have ever asked for.

Would the child be a son or a daughter? Would they look more like him or his queen? Would they be healthy or ill-ridden?

Diarmuid's thoughts were always upon Altria and their child and worried for their sake much. Diarmuid had neglected to tell his employer about this because there was no way a simple man like him could understand. Besides, the man was too nice to have to think of the troubles of a stupid boy like himself.

With a sigh, Diarmuid finished wading in the water and took up a towel to dry himself. The sun had begun to set so he returned to the farmhouse. Inside, the old farmer had cooked himself and his companion a meal. Just as Diarmuid entered he had set the hot plate down.

"Ah, just in time," the old man said with a smile. "The food is piping hot so seat yourself, Diarmuid, and enjoy."

"Thanks." So the two sat and ate their meals and drank their ale. Diarmuid enjoyed himself as the old man told him tales of when he had been young himself and how the land was—long before Diarmuid had even been born. Of course he hadn't troubled him with his own tales, explaining how they couldn't possibly compare to his tales and so the old man let him go off to bed and in those nights Diarmuid would lay wide away, his body resting in the hay and his mind falling back to Altria.

Most nights he never managed to gain a minute of sleep though he swore that would never hinder his work force. No, he worked hand and bone for the old farmer and his kindness. It was all he could do in his banishment.

Heaving over a bale of hay to the horses, Diarmuid wiped the sweat from his brow and turned and smiled. He waved his hand over toward the old famer who had leaned against the wooden fence and watched him finish his noon chores. The old man smiled back and held up his pail of water.

Skipping over to the man, Diarmuid took up the ladle and sipped the cool water. He exhaled his harsh breaths and nodded in thanks. Standing there and leaning himself against the wooden fence, Diarmuid looked out at the farm, satisfied with how quick he had completed his afternoon chores.

"Good afternoon, kind sir."

"Oh, my lady. It is good to see you out on horseback again," the old farmer said in glee. "The rain had kept you at bay I see."

"I had thought the same for you," the other said with a giggle. It was a woman's voice, that much Diarmuid could tell, but his thoughts bore no more interest in women, only one—Altria. So he often paid them no mind when they would visit the old farmer or wave at him as they passed by along the road next to the farm.

"Oh, what is this? A farmhand?"

"Yes, he came to me some months ago offering his services for humble shelter. A blessing from God he was. Diarmuid, why don't you stop for a moment and come over here and introduce yourself to the land's lady?"

"Diarmuid?"

The way his name was said it had stirred a memory within the man. He turned and with wide eyes beheld the lady upon horseback with two guards in tow.

"Diarmuid!" She gasped, her face cracking a wide smile as she hopped off her horse and past the wooden fence and hugged him no matter the state of his body.

"G-Gráinne?" Diarmuid gasped in surprise as the brunette held him close and nearly swung off his neck. When she had landed upon her feet she took her hands and cupped Diarmuid's face, pulling him close to inspect him. "My have you grown!" After that she smiled once more and hugged him close.

"My word, you know this young man, my lady?" the old farmer had asked.

Gráinne had let go of Diarmuid and turned to the farmer. She smiled and nodded. "We were childhood friends, he and I. Practically raised up alongside the other."

"So you are originally from this land, Diarmuid?"

"Of course he is," Gráinne chuckled. "He was born here and is of our people's same blood."

"Imagine that," the old farmer said with a chuckle. "Why, you acted so much like a foreigner that I refrained most native talk from our conversations."

"Please, don't mind," Diarmuid said. "I, myself, do feel as a foreigner and wished to be treated no differently. I have lived outside of this land for so long that it no longer feels as if it's my home."

Diarmuid had been dissuaded from his grievous thoughts at the feel of the young maiden taking a hold of his dirty hand. He looked at her and watched as she smiled. "Come with me," she said. "I wish to hear of everything that has become of my Diarmuid."

Without even knowing it, Diarmuid had let the woman drag him back to the home she had been staying at with her guard. Upon entering she informed him to make himself at home and that the home was hers and that it was a get-away home of sorts.

"My husband is often busy and has no time for me," she admitted as she laid her cloak down upon a hook near the entrance of her home. "So he sends me here when I am not needed."

"You're wedded?" Diarmuid asked.

"Of course," she said with a smile. "I am no longer the young maiden you knew me as, Diarmuid. My wedding age has long since passed."

"Forgive me," Diarmuid apologized. "I didn't mean to lose the time."

"It is fine," the brunette said with a smile. "You've been gone for near a decade. I cannot blame you for losing count of the years befalling this isle, though you surprised everyone with your sudden departure. I longed for years to know of what adventures befell you oh Diarmuid Ua Duibhne who always sought out the magnificent tales to tell."

"Much has befallen these past ten years," Diarmuid began as he took a seat in a chair resting near the fireplace with his old friend beside his feet. "I shan't know where to start."

"Tell me why you left, Diarmuid," Gráinne asked, placing her hand upon the man's knee. "It had all befallen so fast and I had been so young to understand."

Diarmuid smiled when the memory of his departure returned to mind. With a nod he closed his eyes and recalled the vision of throwing in a small pack of provisions and his trusted spears into that small beaten down boat before pushing out to sea with his servants running up upon the beach and crying out for him to return. It had been a miracle he made it to the neighboring isle at all. His boat had sunk before he reached shore and he swam the rest of the way whilst struggling to hold onto his spears of which he feared would rust into dust.

He had been so young then, so full of fire at the ripe age of 15, ready to take on the world and more importantly . . . most ready to swear himself to a worthy master.

"I left because I found myself unable to swear my allegiance to any lord upon this isle," Diarmuid answered. "And so I sought the neighboring isle for one worthy."

"And you found one," Gráinne concluded. Diarmuid nodded his head and smiled, the picture of Altria, so young and scrawny came into his mind and he remembered first beholding her and swearing to not look down upon her merely because she was a young girl. For that, Altria thanked him and respected him.

"How come you have returned?"

"Banishment," Diarmuid plainly answered. Gráinne had clutched his leg close and gasped. "No, it cannot be. But how and why? You never do anything wrong. This I know to be true in your character since we had been little."

"I did do something wrong," Diarmuid said. "And for that I deserved this."

There had been a silence before Gráinne glanced down and then stood herself up. She smiled and looked down at her old friend. "It doesn't matter. If you do not wish to speak it then I do not wish to hear it. Let us take up food and laugh like we used to."

"I would like that," Diarmuid said with a smile as he let his old friend lead him to the dining room.

The two had spoken upon many a memory and when Gráinne went to tell him of the happenings of the isle, Diarmuid was surprised with all that had transpired. He had learned how his father had died only some years back and how after the war with their neighboring isle, the one he had been sworn to all those years ago, the land and its people took a turn for the worse and the stress of fixing the problem had fallen to their king, which so happened to be Gráinne's father who had hated the neighboring kingdom for past wrongs that had been wrought upon him by Altria's father, King Uther.

"My father had grown so weary these past few years, so much so that he wedded me off as soon as possible," the young woman said with a long sigh.

"Who have you come to call your husband?" Diarmuid asked. "Wait, is it possibly Oscar mac Cumhaill?" Gráinne simply shook her head before Diarmuid began speaking off the names of his old friends. Eventually, he had run out of suggestions before Gráinne began speaking, saying, "Captain Fionn's wife had passed away the same year your father had and his grief greatly upset my father and so my father offered me as his bride to quell his sadness."

"Fionn? !" Diarmuid's eyes widened in great shock. "That man's old enough to be our grandfather!"

How Gráinne managed a giggle was beyond Diarmuid's understanding. She had always been a bright girl, but even in this Diarmuid knew she deserved better. So she managed a smile and shook it off by saying, "He's not a bad husband." With that she stood herself up and smiled at Diarmuid. "In fact, I should wish you to come with me to see my father and the others. I'm sure it would be a wondrous reunion. Will you join me, Diarmuid?"

He had wanted to decline her offer and return back to the farm and the old farmer. But Diarmuid found himself taking up horse with Gráinne and her guard and riding into the city where the king's castle resided. Before he knew it he was being presented before her father, Cormac mac Airt, whom was surrounded by many a man he once knew when he was younger in a time long gone.

"Diarmuid?" the king spoke, quite surprised to see the young warrior returned to the land of his birth. "Haven't you sworn yourself to another master?"

"I have been released of her services," Diarmuid said, inclining his head.

King Cormac only raised his brow before leaning back in his throne. "So then, have you come to swear to me?"

"Forgive me, you majesty, but my services are baron and I no longer am worthy to befit the title of knight," Diarmuid admitted.

"Nonsense," the king said. "Once a knight, always a knight. Many a good man's been ruined by that emptiness that you speak of, especially when void of a master. You're a noble fighter, Diarmuid. I quite remember you slaying many of your brethren in the Isle Wars."

"Father, let us not bring up the past," Gráinne spoke up as she strode over next to her father and placed her hand on his arm. She smiled apologetically and Diarmuid nodded in appreciation for her intervention. He had always hated arguments, and her father loved to argue as he recalled.

With a sigh, King Cormac motioned for the man to take a seat near and said, "We have ale and plenty to eat. You are welcomed to have as much as you like."

"Your hospitality is appreciated," Diarmuid thanked. The moment he sat and the hall was at ease, the king's men rushed up to Diarmuid, many of them had been good friends with the man in his youth. They all crowded him with questions of his health and passage back. Most of them steered from the question of his disservice.

He had been happy to see them again, but upon closer inspection to those who paid attention they could easily see how void Diarmuid's smiles were and how his eyes weren't as bright as remembered. This man was indeed no longer a noble warrior. Soon after that day, rumors of disgrace floated around and it hadn't been long before King Cormac had called a private meeting with the man to discuss the true reasons as to why he had returned.

"I have watchers in the neighboring kingdom," King Cormac informed Diarmuid as the two sat sharing ale together along the king's long table. Diarmuid had remained quiet for a while, his gaze even falling from the king's as he spoke. "Of course I am sure you are aware of that. They are needed to inform me of the going on in that land. King Uther's kingdom had once rivaled my own and I had a great enmity against him."

"Even the youngest child here knows of your hatred for that king," Diarmuid spoke up, his dark brown eyes looking up at Cormac. "But that still gave you no excuse to attack the kingdom upon his death when he only had a young daughter as an heir."

King Cormac shook his head. "Was that your reason for betraying me, Diarmuid?"

Diarmuid only sighed and shook his own head. "I have never betrayed you because I had never sworn myself to you," the ex-warrior informed. "But your hatred had forced me from the isle of my birth."

"Then pity was it?" Cormac asked. "Your chivalry had you feeling sorrow for the poor girl?"

"It was respect," Diarmuid said, the subject on his previous master had been touchy and King Cormac only chuckled and drunk his ale. After finishing the goblet he slammed it down upon the wooden table and noticed Diarmuid had barely touched his own.

"Respect?" the king asked. "Was it respect or the warmth of her thighs that enticed your services?"

Diarmuid's eyes narrowed and he immediately moved his cup out of the way. It was a precaution that the king had seen plenty enough. He had backed the young man into a corner and he was ready to strike if need be. Cormac knew what he was doing though and prided himself to be a strong warrior and feared no other under him, much less the infamous lancer from the neighboring kingdom.

The dangerous silence from Diarmuid urged King Cormac to continue on. His laughter reeked of spirits and when he leaned back in his seat he pointed at the man and narrowed his own eyes in egging.

"I told you before; I have watchers in the kingdom. Have for a long time. I know that the young would-be girl ruler had wedded a foreign king. Funny thing how my watchers told me he was made of gold. Can you imagine? That's not the best part, recent news befell upon my ear that this 'respectful' queen had been caught in an affair with one of her own guard. Of course why shouldn't they deserve death? No, there was no death but the king forcing the queen to banish her lover from the land. Where else was this lover of hers to go except to return to the isle of which he was birthed?"

Still Diarmuid remained silent and his aura became quite threatening while his fists laid near his cup, scrunching tighter and tighter.

"So you tell me, Diarmuid, how is it that you have returned to us?" Diarmuid looked at the king of the land, his eyes narrowed and quite dangerous but he still said no word. King Cormac only chuckled to himself and slammed his hand down upon the table. He had thrown his head back, letting out loud laughter. "I've even heard the queen to be with child," he said through his laughter. "What a sin you've wrought upon that kingdom."

"Is this what I've been called here for?" Diarmuid asked slowly. He had stood up and looked ready to leave. "It is true I am a condemned man for my sins and I care not what you say about me, but do not offend my queen or I swear I shall kill you."

"I can have you slain for those words, Diarmuid," King Cormac said as he stood up, looking down at the young warrior. "And your discharge of her services requires you no longer to refer to that wench as your 'queen'. You're a fallen knight, admit it; dishonored and alone."

"Then why am I here amongst such a noble king?" Diarmuid asked, straightening his shoulders. "If I be so disgraced why do you insist on having me by your side?"

"Because you're an impeccable warrior, Diarmuid," the king admitted, taking up a pitcher and pouring more ale into his cup. "And I care not for the honor or nobility of that kingdom, much less Uther's heir. Granted I was surprised upon the news but after it was told to me I realized that those circumstances were indeed enough to force you to return home to your people. I see it as God's blessing."

"God's blessing?" Diarmuid asked, his brow raised in confusion. King Cormac merely nodded and clapped the man's shoulder. "You've heard from my daughter how we fair after the war. We have come under debt and now we find it wise to seek treasures, especially foreign treasures."

"Get them from the king of gold if you want it that badly," Diarmuid muttered, pulling himself away from the king's embrace. King Cormac smiled and nodded. "That is what we plan to do." Diarmuid turned back toward the king with curious eyes. "You would go to war with that man? How can you think about war when your kingdom remains in this state?"

"There is no other way."

Diarmuid turned and watched as Fionn mac Cumhaill walked into the room. Diarmuid didn't know if he had listened to their entire conversation or had just walked in. It didn't matter, what these two old fools were talking about was madness.

"You cannot go into war with hopes of getting that man's treasures only to lose and ruin your kingdom further," Diarmuid tried to warn them, but nothing seemed to persuade the two. Fionn let out a sigh and smiled softly at Diarmuid. "For years we have tried to fix this kingdom, but the Isle War had ruined us. Upon hearing that the foreign king whom had married your queen came with riches, why it was a sign for sure."

"Resting in his fleet are thousands of men," Diarmuid warned. "You have lost many a good men. Against King Gilgamesh's number you cannot win."

"That fear never stopped you from begetting an affair with his wife," Fionn pointed out to which Diarmuid narrowed his eyes.

"This is foolishness!" Diarmuid once again warned, looking toward the king. "You haven't the man power to do this."

"Which is why I would have you by my side," King Cormac said. "I do not ask you to swear to me as your master, but I would reward you if you should help."

"A mercenary?" Diarmuid asked before shaking his head. "There is nothing you can give me of worth. Bring your kingdom to ruin. I shall have no part in it."

"I would offer you a queen full with child," King Cormac said just as Diarmuid had turned to exit the room. Diarmuid turned and looked back at the king questionably. "If we succeed in taking this gold king's riches then we could hire others willing to fight for gold and in so I shall take the kingdom. If you were to help I would promise to spare the life of Uther's daughter and give her to you as a reward for your services."

Diarmuid had remained quiet in thought and King Cormac smiled knowing that he had the man's attention. "You said so yourself, Diarmuid. This is not betrayal, you no longer reside any allegiance to that kingdom. Though, honor is simply out of the question from it diminishing after your affair."

To join a kingdom sworn against Queen Altria's kingdom was pressed hard against Diarmuid. He had never dreamt of it in his life and after serving that isle and its people for so long he had never thought about . . .

"I simply can't," Diarmuid said. "I have told you, I am no longer a warrior. I have laid down my weapons."

"So be it," King Cormac said. "This has been discussed for a long time and will commence as planned. If we should fail then you shall smile upon our graves, but if we should prevail then the queen will perish along with her husband, regardless of whose child she may carry."

It had been hard to walk away after those words, but Diarmuid forced himself to. After that he had left the city and returned back to the farm.

"Oh, you've returned, Diarmuid," the old farmer said, a soft smile always on his lips. "The city life not becoming of you?"

"I believe it's the nobility," Diarmuid said as he sat on the small wooden stool near the old man. Diarmuid offered a smile and loved that toothless smile of the man and so he stayed there, offering only that man his services.

Gráinne had visited him often, and Diarmuid thanked her for the company but could only push her away the more she persisted in having him stay at her home or even the castle. On and on Diarmuid would argue with the girl and beg her to treat him as a foreigner like the others in town had. But the young woman merely shook her head and remained in her stubborn stance.

Continually she brought up how the two had been raised next to one another and that she could never treat him as someone so distant. She had wished Diarmuid thought of her the same, but she noticed how distant he had become of her and in that she was made sad.

On one such occasion the princess had bowed her head and looked ready to cry. Diarmuid had to halt in his daily chores and turn to the girl who had seated herself upon the wooden fence in order to watch him.

"Gráinne, you know I didn't mean it like that," Diarmuid said as he came toward the girl and touched her hand. She only looked at him with a soft smile, the beginnings of tears forming in her eyes. "You have to understand me," Diarmuid spoke. "I had sworn my life to the queen and her kingdom. I had no other choice but to break ties with this land and my people. The Isle Wars saw to my heart's undoing."

"If that is true," the brunette started. "Then why don't you treat me as a stranger?" Gráinne had looked at him with hard brown eyes. "Why don't you just ignore this arrogant woman? I'm a mere stranger to you."

Diarmuid let out a sigh and patted her shoulders. When he smiled she looked at him and couldn't help a smile of her own. "Like you stated earlier, we were raised alongside each other. A friend will always be a friend."

Before Gráinne had said anything a gust of cold autumn wind wept in and chilled her. Diarmuid let out a sigh and took her to his side.

"Why haven't you brought your cloak? These days have grown colder."

The girl simply smiled and leaned against him saying, "But you haven't. You've always been on fire to the touch. That's your spirit, I know it is."

"I wish I could believe you, Gráinne," Diarmuid said, letting out a sigh as he watched the trees around let fall their dead leaves. "But I fear my spirit's fire has been staunched."

"Don't say that, Diarmuid," Gráinne begged, taking a hold of his shirt and gripping tightly onto it. "Just because you had been let go and your honor taken with you doesn't mean you have to quit fighting."

"I hear you, Gráinne," Diarmuid said with a soft smile, looking down at the bright-eyed woman. "But you must understand that a knight never fights for themselves. Always a master they claim to have and when one doesn't . . . your father is right, I'm useless."

"Not to me ye aren't."

Diarmuid and Gráinne turned in the wheat field and watched as the old farmer crept up upon them and he was not alone. When Diarmuid saw the taller man standing next to the farmer his smile returned to him. Letting go of his childhood friend he rushed over to the man and clapped hands and shoulders.

"Gawain! My god I hadn't thought I'd see you again!" Diarmuid exclaimed as the other guard smiled just as wide.

"I did promise I would find you again. If not me then another," the blond said before nodding toward the farmer. "This farmer happened to be in town when my ship had landed and when I went about asking for you he came to me and offered to take me to you."

"Thank you so much," Diarmuid said toward the farmer who only waved at him saying, "A friend of Diarmuid's is definitely a friend of mine."

Gawain had looked around and noticed the maiden next to Diarmuid. He hadn't shown any distain toward the woman, but then again, he hadn't shown anything at all. Diarmuid knew his friend might come to different conclusions and so he reached out to Gráinne and patted her back. "This is Lady Gráinne. We had grown up together in this land. She's been so kind to keep me company."

Gawain simply bowed before the woman before he turned to Diarmuid, his eyes bearing serious issues. "Might I come to speak to you in private?"

Diarmuid's smile faded into a frown and with an excusing of himself he and Gawain had walked down the dirt road toward the watering hole and there they stopped and Gawain patted Diarmuid's shoulder.

"Queen Altria has been growing more round by the day."

Diarmuid couldn't help his smile and when he watched his friend smile in kind he knew the subject of Altria's second child to be of no hindrance to anyone.

"So she's gaining weight?" Diarmuid asked, remembering how her first child had taken all the meat from her bones. Gawain nodded and shifted his weight to his left foot. "The child within her continues to keep her with food in mouth. The sight brings much laughter to the guard."

"Oh I wish I could see her," Diarmuid admitted as his eyes trailed off into his imagination. He smiled at the thought of his queen so round and plump, especially around her abdomen where she carried a growing child, his growing child. "I'm glad that she at least has an appetite."

"Yes, well you have your child to thank for that," Gawain muttered. "What do you mean?" Diarmuid asked.

Gawain let out a sigh and shook his head. "The queen is in such a state that she would wither away had not she be carrying a child within her."

Diarmuid cast his eyes down, his shoulders slumping as well. "I can't say I am a stranger to that feeling," he admitted before Gawain.

The blond had only looked at him with sad eyes. "She misses your presence greatly, Diarmuid."

In a way Diarmuid was happy; happy that his lover still longed for him just as much as he longed for her. He knew he should not smile at something like this, but it was in this feeling and the knowing that he wasn't alone in it that comforted him.

"I miss hers as well," Diarmuid informed, closing his eyes and placing his hand over his heart. "My heart once beat so loudly for that lady but now that we are so far away I have come to forget the sound of my own heart. Often times do I wonder if I still have one."

"She used to cry often as soon as you left," Gawain stated and watched as the dark-haired man cast his eyes down in mutual sadness. "Lately she's come to bring forth no more tear. She is spent and doesn't sleep. I and the others fear for her health and that of her child."

"She would let herself dwindle away like that?" Diarmuid asked, confused by the show of Altria's uttermost weakened side and how it seemed to take hold of her and drown the very life from her.

Gawain nodded. "We wonder what will become of her once her child is born." He could see Diarmuid bite his bottom lip.

A short silence overcame the two before Gawain looked at his brother cautiously. He opened his mouth to speak something and in that movement, Diarmuid looked at him, waiting for more news, but when Gawain hesitated, Diarmuid became concerned. "What is it?" Diarmuid asked. "What is wrong?"

"King Gilgamesh seeks to rid Altria of her child," Gawain informed. Diarmuid's eyes widened and instantly his hands clenched into fists, shaking to take up spear and kill that horrible king. "Numerous times he's tried poisoning her food, or having his watchers push her out of bed."

"And where is her guard?" Diarmuid asked, his tone so concerned that it raised to near shouting. "Where are you? !"

"We watch her constantly now," Gawain informed. "This mistake had not happened again, but that king insists on killing your child."

"It's because the child is not his," Diarmuid said, his anger filling his being and he cursed his honor in upholding his banishment. "I would gut him where he stands if not . . . if not . . ."

"At ease, Diarmuid," Gawain bade, raising his hand and resting it upon the man's tense shoulder. "It does my heart good to see you have not forgotten your proclaimed love for Altria or the child of which the two of you have conceived. But know this that she and the child are safe. Altria has been bedridden because of two main incidents. One being a large stone had been tossed upon her while she sat out in the gardens." Diarmuid looked up at Gawain, concern and yearning in his eyes. "I had saved Altria from the crash and it had been my back it fell upon."

Diarmuid then realized why the man had a hindrance in his step. Upon further inspection he noticed that Gawain no longer stood upright. Coming closer to the guard, Diarmuid placed his hands upon the man's back and felt the dent. "Gawain," he whispered before the man shook him off and offered a smile. "Do not pity me. I am just protecting my queen as I had sworn to do . . . and the child of one of my closest friends."

Diarmuid once again looked down in shame. It should have been him who injured his back. It should have been him to receive all these wounds bent toward his child for simply being conceived. Diarmuid knew the blame was his alone, but the fact that his fellow brothers in arms were falling into danger because of his wrong, his sin, just made him feel miserable inside and now . . . he could no longer look at Gawain.

"I do not wish you to put yourself in harm's way for my own folly," Diarmuid said. The sadness in his eyes was enough for Gawain to bow his own head and bear the sight no longer. "I can see how these past months have been to you, my friend. The regret and sorrow must count for some sort of penance to God."

"God?" Diarmuid asked with a hard chuckle. "What does He have to do with anything? It was He who allowed Altria and I to conceive only to put that child in the devil's way. He means to kill them!"

"Do not hate the Lord's ways," Gawain warned and reached out to touch a trembling warrior. "He knows that the child is innocent of any of their parent's sin. It is He whom shall protect them as they are born into this world."

"Do you know when?" Diarmuid asked. Gawain nodded and answered, saying, "Sometime in the winter. That we are for sure on."

Another silence passed before Gawain let out a sigh and informed Diarmuid of something recent. "Altria had been pushed heavily to the ground when she had come down the hall toward Lancelot and I. She had landed upon her belly and feared the child harmed. When she went to the doctor he . . . Gilgamesh had persuaded the healer to give Altria poison, telling her it was a remedy to help the child."

Diarmuid had said no word. His eyes were dark as he listened to what Gawain had been telling him before he asked, "When?"

"Before I left," Gawain said. "After all that had transpired in our queen's pregnancy I wished to sail at once here."

"Is she and the child safe?" Diarmuid asked, his muscles tensing to release his frustration. Gawain nodded. "Lancelot has not left her side since. Not even to return to his own wife and child." Diarmuid nodded and cursed himself.

"I wish I were there, Gawain. I want to hold Altria and protect our child from the evils around, but I can't . . . I am about to become a father, a father!" Gawain was used to Diarmuid's emotional exclaiming and so while anyone would back themselves away from the man he stayed and watched as the warrior shook his head and looked at him with eyes full of so much hurt. "And I can't even save my child! What do I do? How can I live like this? !"

Inside Diarmuid was conflicted. While he remained to hold onto what honor he could and uphold his banishment, the other part of himself knew there was no honor in abandoning his lover and child. He indeed was about to become a father and to leave the infant with a weakened mother and no father of its own was a shame and fare more disgraceful than anything a man could do in his lifetime. He knew that noble men like Gawain and Lancelot watched over Altria, but it was his job as her lover and father of her child that he be there and give himself to them.

Having to be forced away from their faces was so hard and every day Diarmuid struggled with himself to stay put less he cause much more heartache upon Altria. Now he cursed the love he bore for her and the love forming for his unborn child. It was a great festering wound that would never heal and possibly, just possibly it was becoming fatal.

Clenching the fabric above his heart, Diarmuid leaned in on himself and when he felt Gawain touch him he looked up at him and blinked away his bitter tears. "Is this my punishment, Gawain? Is God laughing at me yet?"

Gawain said not a word and simply stood beside Diarmuid as he wept for his lover and that of the condition of their child. Together they prayed once Diarmuid's mind returned to him. On bended knee they begged the Lord of angels that He spare the mother and her child. They pleaded that this woman carrying an innocent life be forgiven her sins and allowed to become innocent once more as the life she carried inside her was.

They asked God many a thing but in Diarmuid's heart he felt no comfort nor received any message from the King of Heaven. So with bitter thoughts, Diarmuid had bid Gawain farewell and watched him depart from the farm. He had wished to journey with him into town and watch him leave shore, but his mind and body became weary and weak. He missed the man's presence but rested assured that Gawain would return to his queen and protect her still.

In likeness, Diarmuid bid Gawain to send his love to Queen Altria so that she may know he had not forgotten her and that his heart only longs to be with her. Words really were never enough but he hoped that it would bring some comfort to her just as the tellings of her state brought comfort to him.

* * *

Altria let out a quick gasp and couldn't hold back a smile as she reached down and rubbed her rounded belly. "Yes, I heard it too, little one," she said to the unborn child inside her who had just kicked as if to announce they had heard the same news from Gawain.

Gawain and Lancelot watched as Altria stood beside her window, in a light gown more comfortable to her in her carrying months. She leaned against the arch of the window and continued to soak in the sun. There was a soft smile on her lips when she wrapped both arms around her belly as if cradling the little one inside her.

The news of Diarmuid's condition had lightened the heart of their queen, both guards could tell.

"The child is happy within me," Altria suddenly said as she turned to her guards and continued to gaze down at her belly, wishing with all her might that the skin of her abdomen would cease covering the child inside her that she so wished to see. "It does the both of us good to know that Diarmuid has not forgotten us."

"I believe it did his heart good as well, my queen," Gawain spoke up, inclining his head. "He voiced his regrets of not being able to physically be at your side and protect you and the child."

"He would," Altria said with a nod while she went toward her bed and sat down upon it. "But he should set his mind at peace. I shall protect this child. No matter what King Gilgamesh tries he shall not have my heir's life nor shall there be a life set to a hopeful son of his."

"Altria," Lancelot called forth, warning in his voice. "What have you planned in secret?"

Altria just sat there and spoke no more words. Her guards were concerned and wondered what their queen had come up with this time. They feared for her sanity in these days, especially when the time for the child's birth grew near.

It had been set deep into winter. A heavy snowfall had cast the land white and the waters in ice. Time seemed to slow and it was in those cold days when Altria began to yearn for Diarmuid's embrace.

Often times she would cry out in her sleep for the man and her tears returned to her. Lancelot and the others had kept closer toward her then, making sure she was warm and well fed. Though she had rounded well in body due to the child demanding more food of their mother, Altria had become so weak and her guard feared she herself had put such a strain on her body.

In those days she had gone outside, insisting that she gather in the air of the outside and the sun from above. The outside had calmed her but even so she wished to travel further outside. Against the king's demand, Altria had her guard escort her into the city to see her people. Most of them had not expected a heavily bearing queen to visit them in the cold season but had welcomed her nonetheless.

After the city she wished to travel further and so her guard took her toward the spring where they watched in sadness as their pools caked over with ice. The mere feel of the place set their queen at ease and so she sat there, watching the small flakes of snow fall onto her fur gown and collect there until some coldness settled into her but she hadn't felt cold in those months. If anything she felt herself heating like a furnace.

The child within her was burning her and the feel of the flame was almost too much. It brought a smile to Altria's lips; the feel of the burning ember reminded the queen of her lover. The feel of his skin against hers felt just the same and in this Altria was glad the child took so much after their father.

This feeling kept Diarmuid's memory fresh within Altria and she loved it. These cold nights were all the more bearable thanks to the child within her womb and of the comfort the child brought, Altria wished to thank this child properly once he or she was born. But first . . .

"But first," Altria whispered to herself, opening her eyes and looking across where she sat in the garden, next to a tree to find her guard resting easily in a circle around her. She looked at each of them and noticed they were just as tired as she.

But first . . . Altria had decided long ago on what to do once her child was born. She knew how weak she would become after birth and in that state she would not have the king come to her and throw her to the ground, much less touch her child. As of late there had been no incident but Altria was still very untrusting of Gilgamesh and so she made sure this last act of hers would teach him a lesson.

In the dead of night on a particularly cold month, Altria's cries of pain could be heard echoing throughout the castle, as well as the iced city. Due to the threats upon her, Altria had Gawain and Lancelot remain in her room while her midwives tended to her and helped her through her pains.

Gawain seemed more uncomfortable in seeing Altria like this, but Lancelot had been there with his own wife, Elaine as she gave birth to Galahad. This sight was of no stranger to him, but seeing his queen so vulnerable upset him just the same. It wasn't until their queen looked near spent did they approach her.

"It has been near a day," Lancelot spoke up to the midwives. "Where is the child?"

One of the older women pressed her hand hard against Altria's stomach and then turned to the guard. "The child is still high. It may take some time."

"Then are the pains too soon?" Gawain asked, looking at Lancelot in uncertainty. Lancelot only let out a sigh and watched as his queen closed her eyes, panting heavily but so tired. He had walked up to the woman and then pulled her up. The midwives were about to protest but Lancelot had made sure his queen remained awake.

"Do not fade just yet, Altria," Lancelot ordered, patting her face hard and forcing her eyes to look upon him. "I know you are weary from the pains of this day, but remember you have born one child and you shall bear another. Come, you must walk with me."

With that, he dragged the woman out of bed. Without slippers and a mere linen gown wrapped around her, Lancelot pulled his queen next to him and helped her stand. This time, her midwives came before the guard and pleaded he stay. "Do not move her, we beg of you. She mustn't move too much. She is too weak!"

"She's strong," Lancelot shot back before holding onto Altria close and escorting her out of her room and through the halls. This had kept her awake and even though she could barely stand, Lancelot was there for her to lean against.

"Lancelot," she whispered, her head becoming so heavy that she leant it against her guard's broad shoulder. "I'm so weary."

"Do not fade," Lancelot once again ordered and looked back to see Gawain as well as the rest of Altria's guard following, watching on in great concern as Lancelot helped the queen walk around. "Just walk beside me and we shall have the child come."

Lancelot had walked the queen around the castle and had not cared that Gilgamesh's watchers had seen her. He wanted them to report to their king and tell of how Altria was giving birth to her second child—a child that was not his and could never be. But besides showing the queen off he knew that she needed help in this moment.

After the second day passed, the entire guard became concerned. The midwives continued saying the child would come soon, but it never did. The guards were about ready to throw out the foolish women had not Altria's pains worsened. It became to the point she could no longer stand.

The third day pressed on and Altria had been covered in sweat. Her light hair had turned a strange color of brown as it clung to her brow while the midwives surrounded her and encouraged her on the time to press the child out of her. Even so, watching closely the guards noticed Altria's unease with the birth and they feared for her life as well as the child's.

Lancelot glanced next to him and watched Gawain clasp his hands together in prayer to their god. They all began praying for the ease of their queen and the safety of the child about to come into this world.

"Push, my queen," the midwives urged, holding onto the woman who knelt down into a squat while her maids held towels under her. "It is time, you must do this."

They had continued saying this for hours and just as the third day fell into a night, the guard leaned in closer and watched their queen cry out louder. Her face red and her limbs shaking. Then, it was finished.

The sound of a babe's cry hadn't sounded so good to everyone in their life. The midwives took the child and cut the umbilical cord before standing to clean the weeping child. Altria had been eased to sit down upon the towels. She looked about ready to faint as she caught her breath and listened to the sounds of her second child making such a fuse over being cleaned.

Gawain smiled and went up to the nurse who held the child into a small water basin while Lancelot came over to his queen and wrapped an arm around her saying, "You did good, Altria. You did good."

The queen looked as if she wanted to say something, but her weariness just wouldn't let her speak. "Let us get you cleaned, milady," her maids said as they lifted her to her feet and moved her over to her bed.

"N-No," Altria had managed to gasp out. "Let me . . . let me hold my child."

It had been a command and so the nurse simply wiped the child the rest of the way in the cleaning and turned and gave the babe to Gawain. With a smile she nodded toward the queen. "Here, take the child to our queen." Gawain nodded and so walked over to Altria, all the while his eyes remained on the small child whose eyes were so wide at the new sights.

"My," the guard said as he handed the child into Altria's near limp arms. "The child looks so much like Diarmuid."

Altria tried to smile at her baby, but she had been so weak from the labor of three days that she simply laid her head back and let her maids clean her. Lancelot noticed how she wished to pull the child close to her bosom and so he leaned forward and laid the child there. Altria nodded at him in thanks.

When her maids finished cleaning her, Altria turned to Lancelot and said, "Get me . . . a horse."

"Now, my queen?" Lancelot asked, his fellow guards looking on with concern of her state. Altria would have no questioning though. She nodded and lifted her hand to point to the man. "Do as I say." She said, trying to sound forceful, but her weariness refused anything she wished but it didn't matter, Lancelot would abide, he had to.

_This night_, Altria thought to herself as she felt her second child calm down upon her chest at the sound of her heartbeat against ear. _I shall end Gilgamesh's threat upon me._

* * *

Altria had wished to remain strong before her men, especially the ones she had selected to journey with her in the dark of the winter's night, but the pains from birthing had hurt her to the point she could no longer remain atop her steed with head held high like a queen's should be. She had fallen off into the snow and remained laying there. The moment her men ran to her and held her they wished greatly to return back to the castle but Altria stayed their thoughts and urged them to continue.

So it was Lancelot whom took her up into his embrace and rode with her toward the appointed hut where they sought a medicine man. The ride had taken all day and all night and a blizzard had torn through the land, making their journey for the worst. None was lost in the winter madness and they managed to find the small dark hut of where Altria had wished to go.

When Lancelot hopped off his steed and held out his arms to his queen, the woman could barely even move and so she slid off the side of the animal and just fell into her guard's arms. Her dead weight was enough for Lancelot to worry about.

"My lady," he whispered to her as he held her close and walked toward the hut with two other guards in tow. "You are in great pain and need to rest. Now you would wish this upon your body? Do you seek to make your children motherless?"

Altria nodded her head as Lancelot entered into the hut. She placed her heavy hand upon Lancelot's breastplate and patted her fingers lightly against it. "I will not fade from this life. Just remember me as your strong queen, Lancelot. Do not fear."

She felt the guard tighten his hold upon her as a young woman approached them; in her hand was a steaming cup of liquid that smelled awful to the senses. She handed it to Altria but when the woman could not even reach out for it, Lancelot reluctantly took it and helped his queen drink the entire thing.

"We are graced with your presence, my queen," the maiden said as she held her black cloak over her face. "Please, if you would, I will show you into this room."

Lancelot bade the two guards behind to stay in this current room while he took Altria into the other room only covered by a sheet. When he entered the two looked upon a man with short hair. He was grinning at them and just finishing placing tools and medicines down beside a high bed.

"Ah," he said as he turned around to greet them. "Greetings, I am Gilles de Rais. It is an honor to meet you, fair maiden queen. I was honestly surprised that your messenger came to me some months back informing me on your wishes to come to me."

"This is that warlock, Bluebeard, Altria," Lancelot informed. "Are you mad with seeing this lunatic?"

"I do not seek his black magic," Altria muttered as she ordered Lancelot to place her upon the high bed. "You know of what I wish of you, warlock," Altria said, looking at the man who eyed her guard closely. "Just hurry and finish this."

"Are you sure you wish this, my lady?" Gilles asked as he reached forward and touched Altria's gown, pushing it up toward her thighs. Lancelot had to remain where he stood, his very being wishing this atrocity to stop touching his queen. "God has blessed you many with children so healthy and a womb so fertile. I have heard news of your second child's birth, congratulations."

"Stay your condolences," Altria said, waving her hand and laying her head down upon the towel folded underneath her head. "I am a new mother yet again and my child longs for the milk of my breasts. I wish to return home as soon as possible."

"I understand," Gilles said with a nod as he turned and took up a small cup and then handed it toward Lancelot. The man looked at the cup in confusion before the warlock pointed toward the queen. "Hand this to your queen, it shall quell her nerves."

Lancelot nodded and did as commanded. After a few moments he watched Altria's eyelids begin to droop. She looked ready to faint. Lancelot then turned toward the warlock and asked, "Should she not be conscious for this? I will not have her fade into the next life so easily."

"Do not fret," Gilles said as he took up a long sharp object. "If she can give birth and then ride to my humble home so quickly, then this shan't kill her."

Lancelot remained by his queen's side and held her hand in his tightly while this horrid man came closer and did just as his lady bade him to do.


	7. Tensions on the Emerald Isle

It had been a new year but the heavy snowfall had not ceased. Diarmuid rubbed his hands together as he dropped down the firewood next to the fireplace and began shoving the stumps in. When he set it ablaze he pulled himself closer to the fire and bid it warm his frozen limbs.

The old farmer had gone into town that morning and said he shouldn't be back until evening. Often times he invited Diarmuid to come with him, but Diarmuid refused time and time again, thus the farm was all he knew much of. He had his reasons for remaining at bay, most of the time was because of Gráinne and how she lived close to the shore-town. She was seen often by the people and would no doubt nag him to come live with her in her warm home. She was sometimes too courteous, especially to strangers like Diarmuid.

The man had to admit that winter, albeit cold, was the easiest season to deal with in the farm. There was no reaping or planting, just merely taking care of the animals and the barn. So often times Diarmuid would find himself able to sit before the fireplace and take in the heat—but of course he was there to sit in his thoughts.

He often wondered how Altria was fairing, especially their child. Had the child been born yet? Has Altria's health been still declining? Has she been threatened by her barbaric husband?

No matter the defeat Diarmuid held within him because of his banishment, every time that foreigner came into mind his fighting spirit would spur up and threaten his bones to ache and limbs to shake to take up his spears and hunt down that man. Diarmuid had been a lover and hater of many things, but on his list of most hated it was that man, that king who proclaimed his name to be Gilgamesh.

Was it because the man was wedded to the woman he loved? Was that the reason for his hatred toward him? Was it the way he ruled Altria's kingdom? Was it the way he treated the people of the land and refused to know them as king? There were many things Diarmuid hated him on, but of which one was the most he was uncertain of.

No matter, he hated him and that was the truth. But the ex-warrior had prided himself more as a lover than a hater and certainly he had to love more than hate. Lately though . . . in his banishment, he could find little to love.

With a shiver, Diarmuid wrapped his cloak around him tighter, not much warmth was given to him from the thin fabric, but it was all the old farmer had to offer. No, next to Altria as her knight he had many a fur to keep warm in winters like this—of course many a lady as well. With a smile Diarmuid couldn't help but imagine his queen lover, sharing his bed and keeping his bare body warm from the ice outside just as he would do for her as well. It was a simple dream of his that brought small lightheartedness to him in moments like these.

"Diarmuid?"

The raven-haired man whipped his head around quickly to find a fur-clad man standing in the doorway to the small house he stayed in. With a smile, Diarmuid jumped to his feet and all about tackled the man.

"Rowan!" he exclaimed in glee before pulling him inside. "Come sit by the fireplace, it's the only warm place in this frozen land."

"Much thanks," the guard said as he pulled his cloak down and sat next to the man and shared the warmth of the fire.

"Gawain said he would either come or send others," Diarmuid said as he looked at his fellow brother in arms who was set in a shiver.

"Apologies that I hadn't arrived sooner," Rowan replied while rubbing his arms. "The waters forced our ships to shore and so I was forced to wait a few months to come to tell you of the going on of the kingdom."

"How fairs Altria?" Diarmuid asked, his eyes bright for once and lips all a smile.

Rowan smiled. "Just two months ago she gave birth to her second child." The guard watched with happiness as Diarmuid's eyes widened, awaiting more news on the subject. "But it had been hard on our queen. For three days and three nights the child tarried within the womb of their mother, refusing to enter this world under any circumstance."

Diarmuid looked concerned and he about fell off his seat from how far on the edge he sat. When Diarmuid motioned him to continue, his brother only smiled and nodded his head. "But the child came and both are healthy as to this day."

"That does my heart good," Diarmuid muttered in relief as he leant his forehead against his fingers. He remained there for a moment before he looked back up toward Rowan asking, "Has she born a daughter or a son?"

Again the man smiled and came to place his hand upon Diarmuid's shoulder, his grip strong as he said, "Queen Altria hast born you a son, Diarmuid."

Diarmuid could no longer contain his excitement at the news as he clapped his hands together and jolted up to his feet, pacing around and running his fingers through his hair. "A son?" he began rambling as he paced back and forth quickly, causing the guard to chuckle. "A son?" he said again before turning to Rowan with the biggest smile the guard's ever seen on the man. "I have a son? Altria gave me a son!"

"Yes, she has," Rowan said, in no way stopping the excited father who about twirled around in utter pride.

"Forgive me, Rowan," Diarmuid bade, trying to get his nerves to calm, but his smile never faded or lessoned and his limbs never stopped shaking. "It's just . . . a son . . . Altria you've blessed me with a son!"

"You should have seen King Gilgamesh's distain when it was announced to the kingdom that Altria begat a son," Rowan said with a chuckle.

Diarmuid scrunched his face and waved his hand, "Forget about that man. He's not important right now. But . . . a son . . ." Diarmuid then turned to Rowan and about threw himself at the man's knees with how close he came. "You said he was born some months back, what does he look like now? What color hair does he have? What color eyes? How many toes? How many fingers? Was he a large babe or a small?"

The onslaught of questions Rowan was indeed prepared for and so he placed both his hands upon Diarmuid's shoulders and set him back on his seat next to him. "Be still, Diarmuid. One question at a time, I shall remain here until you are finished."

Diarmuid nodded and let a shaking hand push back the strands of his midnight black hair. "There are so many I wish to ask," he admitted before looking at his friend and asking, "What did Altria name him?"

Rowan chuckled before letting out a sigh. "Part of my journey was to inform you of the birth of your son, the other part was to inquire a name from you."

"What do you mean?" Diarmuid asked.

"Our queen's forbidden herself from naming her second born. She informed us and the rest of the castle that the right belongs with the child's father."

"Me?" Diarmuid asked. "She wants me to name him? And she's waited all this long?" Rowan nodded before Diarmuid let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "I suppose I should have come to think of names then. Altria, I knew, would think of the best name for our child I just hadn't expected her to let the honor fall upon me."

"Her heart still thinks of you, Diarmuid," Rowan informed. "In so she would not forget the father of her child."

Diarmuid smiled before he quieted himself in thought. Rowan watched as the man's eyes scanned through his mind and thoughts for one so good. He watched him shake his head softly before looking toward him and asking, "Tell me something, Rowan. Is it too early to tell the child's eye color?"

"It tis not," Rowan said with a smile as he rubbed his cold thighs. "We have thus all agreed that the boy shares a great resemblance to his father. Already his little tusks of hair are the same color as your own, but his eyes . . . in that he takes after his mother. He bears the same livid green our queen does stare at us with."

As Rowan explained the child's appearance he watched as Diarmuid smiled softly, so much love for the child was shown in his eyes that the guard felt a pity for him.

"You should see this child, Diarmuid. I am sure you would love him more," Rowan stated.

"No," Diarmuid said, shaking his head. "I believe I cannot love him any more than I do now. Even though I can't see him with my own eyes, my heart has. In there I see him in the arms of the one I still love. What a beautiful child she's blessed me with."

Rowan watched as the new father leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He had never seen the man so at peace before and it set his heart at ease to see him like this and he knew that when he returned to their queen, Altria would ease herself as well.

"Erin."

"Hm?" Rowan looked and watched as Diarmuid slowly opened his eyes and continued to gaze afar. "Erin," he said once more before turning toward the guard and nodding. "It means green and I found it suitable, after the color of his eyes that he shares with his mother."

"Erin," Rowan repeated the name on his tongue before he nodded with a smile. "What a fine name. I'm sure Queen Altria would have no other name than so."

Diarmuid simply smiled and clasp his hands together, often glancing down at his cold fingers. "Again, I am honored that she allowed me to name him. She's always been the more noble."

Rowan watched a sadness overcome his fellow brother in arms. He had been informed by Gawain that Diarmuid's spirit quickly fell once the reality of his situation returned to him. He watched as the man's broad shoulders slumped and a dark haze set about him.

Then Diarmuid's hands came up as if he were carrying something within them. Those cold fingers twitched before a sad smile shook its way upon Diarmuid's mouth. "It would do me so much good to hold him . . . my son. I would give anything just to do that . . . anything."

Rowan placed his hand upon the man's back and patted him in the only way of comfort he knew how. He, himself, had a wife and four children all of which he had been present for at their births. He couldn't imagine loving a woman so much and then being forced to leave her side and to never get a chance to hold the child you had conceived with her. He could see how hurt Diarmuid was, but he could also see how he was trying to make the best of his situation.

"I am glad that I am visited often," Diarmuid said, looking at Rowan. "With all this news I feel I am never far away from my kingdom."

Diarmuid had left his heart back with Queen Altria and her kingdom, everyone knew this and what they wouldn't give to see that young warrior so alive and on fire again.

"Come with me," Rowan bade as he stood up and pulled on Diarmuid's arm. "My ship sets sail just this evening. While we walk back toward town I shall tell you of your son Erin."

"I would like that," Diarmuid said with a smile as he nodded and left the farm so easily, walking next to his fellow warrior and listening to Rowan's firsthand account of the birth of his child and then of his growth afterward.

Even though Diarmuid had been disheartened by the fact he could not physically see or touch his child he was glad that Rowan was so descriptive and so it set a vivid picture within his mind and heart of the image of his son.

* * *

"Erin . . . I very much like the name," Altria informed as she held her son close, letting him nurse upon her breast.

"My lady, if he should bother you, I could give him to a wet-nurse," Gendella, Altria's maid, suggested.

Altria simply shook her head and pet her little boy upon his spiky black head. "No," the queen said. "I was too afraid to nurse Igraine on my own, but I will not do so with Erin."

"Mama, he looks sleepy," Igraine piped up, leaning closer against her mother's lap and poking her little brother in his chubby cheek.

"He's just enjoying his meal, Igraine," Altria informed before she took her daughter's small hand and motioned her to pat the baby's belly. "Feel his belly, see? He's full."

"Oh, he is, mama!" Igraine squealed in happiness as she scooted closer to her mother's side this time and began playing with her little brother's toes. "He's so tiny," she noted. Altria smiled and reached over to pet her daughter's blonde locks. "You were too, once upon a time."

"Really?" the little girl asked before sizing up the child in her mother's arms. "Are you sure?"

Altria smiled before looking back up to her guards, especially Rowan who had recently returned from a visit to see Diarmuid. "I am grateful for you giving me news on Diarmuid's state. Whoever returns to him please send my thanks in his naming his son. Let him know that I love the name."

"I am sure he already knows, my lady," Rowan said with a bow.

Once the queen had finished nursing she held her son a little longer and watched him doze off into sleep. She then handed him to her maid and bid her put her son to bed. When she moved, Lancelot had noticed how Altria showed pain in her face. When she settled back into her bed and rubbed her abdomen, Lancelot let out a sigh and said, "I warned you not to move too much. Which is why it is wise to have a wet-nurse nurse Erin."

"I want to nurse him," Altria said before looking down at her clasp hands. "It will be the last time I am able to nurse."

Of course Altria's guard wouldn't be able to understand such womanly things but most understood that Altria had wanted to bond with her child from day one and so she insisted on nursing the infant with her own milk. It was fine in most parts, but the queen had yet to recover from birthing him and other happenings and so her guard had her bedridden and there wasn't much the queen could do besides hold her children.

"Any news on King Gilgamesh?" Altria asked. "He is not asking upon my health is he?"

"He is, actually," Gawain spoke up with a sigh in his tone. "After three months he's been curious as to why he hasn't seen your presence outside of your chambers."

"I don't care what you tell him, just make sure he leaves me and my son alone," Altria ordered before leaning back with her daughter curled against her side. "Igraine, you got to see your brother feed now it's time for you to sleep."

"But I'm not tired," the little girl said as she rubbed her green eyes. Altria smiled but motioned for a maid to take her daughter as well. When the woman picked up the little girl, Igraine suddenly turned to her mother. "Mother," she asked. "What was my brother's name again?"

Altria smiled and repeated, "Erin."

"Erin," Igraine muttered before nodding her head and signaling to everyone she memorized it. "How come you didn't name him until now? Did you do that with me when I was born?"

"No," Altria said, reaching up to her daughter in her maid's arms and stroking her hair. "Boys just take a little longer to name is all."

"Oh, I see," Igraine said, seemingly content as she laid her head on the maid's shoulder while she was taken back toward the nursery to be put down to bed with her newborn brother.

"She seems to have taken to her brother quickly," Gawain noted as he watched his queen's daughter leave the room. Altria nodded her head and sighed. Gawain turned to his queen and asked her something he had been meaning to ask for a while. "Princess Igraine does not see the difference in she or her brother. Should you ever tell her of the different parents they do not share?"

Altria frowned before closing her eyes and saying, "Igraine is entirely my child. Unwanted by her father, though heir she will still remain, she is of my own blood. My son, Erin, however, I can easily say that he is one part me and the other part Diarmuid. He's been blessed in having parents that greatly wish his existance."

"That he has," Gawain agreed. "I hate to admit to this, my queen, but I had wished you had born another daughter. In that King Gilgamesh's rage be quelled from your second born."

Once again Altria shook her head and smiled at her guard. "I am glad that I have given Diarmuid a son. Despite my husband's threats should I produce a male heir to another man besides him, I wished the child within me be a son."

Lancelot and the others smiled. "You never were one to fall under threats, my queen," Lancelot said with a chuckle and proud stance. Altria merely smiled back and shook her head.

"My only wish now is that I heal quickly so that I, myself, can protect my son. You all have done so much for me and Erin in the months I had carried him and in these months when I am defenseless alongside him. Thank you all so much," Altria said, looking at each of her guards. They slammed their fists against their breastplates and inclined their heads. "For you always, my queen!" they all said in unison and in that moment Altria couldn't have been more proud.

The queen had taken a few more months to heal completely but she had hidden her full health until one morning she had joined her guard out in the training arena with sword in hand. All happily surprised and eagerly jumped into the circle to spar with her. After sharpening her own sword skills once more Altria had taken her son out into the city to meet his subjects.

Altria had been so surprised with how many people amongst her kingdom welcomed her son, albeit he was a bastard born out from the wedlock of a marriage. She had come to know that her people loved her son because they had loved Diarmuid and they did love her. With tears in her eyes she thanked them all from the bottom of her heart and swore to raise her son to come to know them and have a heart for them just as she and the boy's father had.

In this promise her people were set at peace and many looked forward to the time when her son would reign the kingdom after King Gilgamesh passed. This happiness, though, did not sit well with the current ruler, King Gilgamesh himself. After hearing his inherited subjects speak of high hopes for the future ruler, the man was set into great unease.

"Who does that woman think she is?" King Gilgamesh asked, through gritted teeth as he watched from a high balcony as his wife mingled with the lowly commoners and dared let them lay hands upon her young babe. "I should hope one of her peasants means to kill that child."

"It will probably not come to pass, my king," one of Gilgamesh's general's said. "The watchers have informed of the words of the people; they love the queen's heir, exclaiming that he should become a greater king than the one currently in power."

Gilgamesh let out a laugh but clenched his fists. "That wench dared bear that traitor a son and not her own husband. What kind of a god would allow that? !"

Gilgamesh's generals and advisors could see he was upset and wondered now if he would continue to protect the queen like he had been so lately.

"Again we suggest you be rid of your wife," one of his advisors said.

"Then what if the people were to riot?" Gilgamesh said, looking at his men as if they had no minds of their own. "Don't you see she is the only reason I keep such a sustained rule over this isle?"

"But even if she were to unexpectedly perish, your throne is still secured thanks to her transfer of rule," another advisor said.

"I hear what you are saying," Gilgamesh said as he waved his fingers at them. "But you apparently do not hear what _I_ am saying." The king narrowed his scarlet eyes before he walked closer to his companions. "If Altria were to perish in whatever way then surely this kingdom, which was built and fought upon her rule, will come crashing down and break into smaller kingdoms. I am not so idiotic as to listen to your foolishness!"

"Then, my liege, what if she refuses to grant you a male heir?" His advisors asked. "We have received messages from the main kingdom and without your presence or at least one related in blood they have grown agitated. We suggest you strengthen your rule on your _entire_ kingdom, my lord, through any means necessary."

"I do mean to return to my city one day," Gilgamesh said. "These years I have spent here I have spent to gain a strong rule, but with my bride being so . . . disrespectful of me, what am I to do? Am I to leave for a few years to return to land of my birth only to have my generals left here overthrown by the queen I had wedded?"

"She's a noble queen and would not go back on her word," Gilgamesh's general advised. "She has thus so stated recently."

"Is that so?" Gilgamesh asked. "Well her nobility certainly did not stop her from stomping upon our marriage and laying herself under that guard! Her words mean nothing now!"

"Then why hasn't she risen against you?" an advisor asked. "I do think she means to give you this kingdom. Though it has been seen how she outwardly despises you, she had not yet raised a hand against you."

"As if she could," Gilgamesh said with a scoff. "But her presence has become a nuisance, along with that child she deems her heir."

There was a silence before the king nodded and turned toward his men. "One day," he started as he walked past them and back into the castle. "There will come up an event where it will be opportune to have her vanish from this earth!"

* * *

"I want to thank ye, Diarmuid, for coming into town with me," the old farmer said with a smile as his farmhand held a few crates for him while they traveled from one store to the next. "This season's been colder than usual and my bones tend to ache to the point where I can't walk."

"It's my pleasure," Diarmuid said as he followed the man on his way through town but when they had passed by the docks he had noticed a few of the townsfolk standing by the ships, peering out into the ocean. When he looked he noticed they had been looking out past the waves toward small objects out in see.

"Are those ships?" He heard a few ask amongst themselves. When Diarmuid himself took a look he noticed they were ships and if he was not mistaken, they were Gilgamesh's ships.

_What are they doing so close to this shore?_ Diarmuid wondered. As long as they made no move to come into land then it was fine, but concern did arise over the fact they were patrolling waters not their own. Diarmuid, from that day on, wondered what Gilgamesh was doing.

When the winter season had steadied Diarmuid had been visited more frequently by his brothers, but when he had brought up that he had seen Gilgamesh's ships along the coast they had not given him any information as to why the king had ships near the isle's shores. So, after word of how Altria and his child faired the guard would be off and Diarmuid would be left to his own thoughts.

Though the winter season had steadied and the new year was well under way, the snow had not ceased, especially where Diarmuid lived. Right now he was sure spring was ready to come underway but the land was still a frozen ice cube.

"This is one of our longest winters to date," Gráinne said as she rubbed her hands together while she and Diarmuid stood outside a shop, waiting for the old farmer to finish his business.

"I can tell," Diarmuid said, his teeth chattering, causing the younger girl to break out in laughter.

"Oh, you poor thing," she said as she dug into her pouch and then pulled out a thicker cloak. "Here, I thought you might like this." She swung the fur cloak around Diarmuid's neck and tied it tightly.

Diarmuid blinked in surprise and then rubbed the warm coat. He smiled and looked down at the brunette. "You didn't have to, lady Gráinne."

The girl merely blushed and waved him off. "You're always so cold in that light clothing I thought you might enjoy this."

"Many thanks," Diarmuid said, rubbing himself into the furs. Whilst he began to warm himself he noticed the dockyard and how more than usual townsfolk had crowded around. This time, the ships were closer, so much closer to where you could see the designs of their hulls.

"Whose ships are those?" Gráinne asked, noticing the ships as well. "Certainly not from around here. They have father concerned. Every day they've been drawing closer. Do you think they mean us harm?"

Diarmuid hadn't said anything, his golden gaze just continued to peer out toward the 5 ships. He had noticed one ship suddenly turn and head straight toward the docks. Without a word Diarmuid walked toward the docking post and ignored Gráinne's calls.

Pushing through the crowds, Diarmuid watched on silently as one ship about crashed into the boarding area. It had stopped so quickly that most people had scattered away in fear of being hit. He could hear everyone's concern especially when the men began walking out of the ship.

He had noticed the soldiers were joking around with one another and it was then Diarmuid figured they had had a little too much wine. He could tell by the way they were swaying, but a few he had observed weren't so tipping over themselves.

"What a horrid looking place," they began shouting once their feet left the wooden boarding docks. "This is just as poor a place as the other isle. I don't see what our king sees in these wretched islands."

"There is richer country elsewhere," the other said next to the man.

Their shouting and unauthorized landing had called in a patrol party to where they had confronted the men, but they were greatly outnumbered and seemed to only cause the boat to bleed more men out of it. Soon, these foreigners dressed in vibrant metals were choking the docks with their stench and it took everything the patrol party had to clear the townsfolk out of harm's way.

"Our knights should see to you!" the patrol party had said once they formed a line before the men who had possibly numbered in the 100's if not more from the ship at the dock.

"We just wanted a look around," the drunken men spoke. "What's so wrong with that?"

"We have been informed you've come from a war ship from a kingdom not so in standing with our own," the patrol party said. "Because of so you are unauthorized to dock anywhere upon our isle."

"Says who? Your King? I don't see him anywhere at all. Do you, men?" While the foreign soldiers all threw their heads back in laughter it wasn't a second later that they pushed the patrol party aside and began flooding into the town throwing their rude behaviors at everyone they encountered.

Diarmuid decided on playing neutral and stayed out of there way. It wasn't his place to fight with them any longer. So he turned on his heel and headed back to where he left the farmer and Gráinne. When he returned to their side he picked up the crates and bid the two leave as soon as possible.

"What do they think they're doing?" Gráinne asked, placing her fists on her hips. "If father knew about this he'd be outraged."

"He'll soon find out, come on, let's leave," Diarmuid bade, trying to get them to follow him but just as he had he noticed a particular guard had caught Gráinne's sight. He smiled and jogged up to her, stepping in front of her and refusing her to leave. "You're a pretty thing. Look at you, all dressed fancy. It should be you are a noble, hm?"

"I am the king's daughter of this land," Gráinne exclaimed in pride. "Now you should be wise to step out of my way."

"Oh, but where is your father? Sitting on the pot, not caring where his little girl went? Of course." The soldier never got a chance to even touch the lady because Diarmuid had taken a hold of his wrist so quick and twisted it that the soldier hadn't felt the pain until later.

Without dropping the crates in his arm, Diarmuid shoved the soldier to the ground saying, "She is the lady of this land. A commoner like you should never lay a finger upon her!"

The soldier had pushed himself up off the muddy ground and looked around him. His fellow comrades had seen what had happened to him and so drew near. Diarmuid on the other hand had pulled Gráinne to him and pushed her closer toward the old farmer.

"I told you two to leave," he said, continuing to push them back.

"Diarmuid, what have you done?" Gráinne asked as she clung to the old farmer.

"Ye've made 'em mad," the farmer said.

"Just leave, the both of you!" Diarmuid ordered but just as he turned to them to wish them away the two's eyes had widened and so Diarmuid turned to watch the soldiers run at him. With a hard toss he threw the crates at the soldiers, knocking a few to the ground, but the others took out their swords and made to kill him.

Dodging to his left, Diarmuid sunk low to the ground, not caring if he soiled his clothes in the mud as he rolled out of harm's way and quickly leapt upward toward a stand selling metal rods. He took up two and was quick to turn and bash the jaws of two soldiers on his heel. They dropped so quickly that the soldiers chasing him hadn't even known two of their comrades had fallen.

Just as it had sunk in that Diarmuid had taken down two that quickly, the soldiers stopped and were quick to back away. It seemed they just realized that this man had skill they weren't expecting.

From the commotion heard a few other soldiers came and soon Diarmuid had found himself surrounded. He turned his eyes toward where he had last seen the old farmer and Gráinne and noticed how they had fled like he told them to. With that at ease he turned his gaze toward the soldiers surrounding him. Most of them too drunk to understand their standings with him.

This shouldn't be hard.

Without waiting for them to attack first, Diarmuid darted to his right and quickly swept the feet of many a soldier and then turned toward their neighbors and struck them upon the backs. Within a minute most of the soldiers surrounding had been knocked down.

"What are you, a knight? !" Many cried out, trying to get up.

Before the rest of the soldiers came rushing in, Diarmuid turned and watched as Fionn and his men rode into the shore-town on their steeds.

"Diarmuid?" the old man questioned once he looked around to see many a foreign soldier upon the ground. He then looked to see two metal rods in the man's hands. So he dismounted along with the rest and came in front of Diarmuid, looking toward the foreign soldiers. "What right have you, foreign warriors, to dock upon our land? We would ask that you depart at once before we use forceful means as to drive you off our land."

The soldiers hadn't said anything much, but they all spared hateful glances toward Diarmuid as they turned and left with no word. Just as a few knights followed the soldiers off, Diarmuid turned to return home, but Fionn had placed his hand upon his shoulder and halted him.

"That is a great skill you have, Diarmuid," the man said with a broad smile. "Much sharper than I remember. It's such a waste that you don't use it."

"I'm not a knight any longer, Fionn," Diarmuid said, pushing his hand off of his shoulder and then returning the metal rods from where he grabbed them. "Nor do I wish to be yours."

With that he left and bide no more words. Fionn's grandson, Oscar, had run up to him in hopes to catch Diarmuid. "Has he left?" the younger man asked. Fionn simply crossed his arms with a sigh. Oscar slumped his shoulders and said, "That's too bad. I wanted to thank him."

"Forget him," Fionn said. "He refuses to become a warrior again."

"But look what he did!" Oscar exclaimed. "If we can get him with spears in his hands again then maybe it'd bring back his fighting spirit!"

"No," Fionn stated. "I fear he's only sworn himself to one ruler, and that's not King Cormac."

"What is going on here?"

Fionn and his grandson turned, as well as the rest of the knights, to see their king come riding in on his large brown horse with his guard in tow. He hadn't looked pleasant and when his gaze fell upon the state of the shore-town his frown deepened.

"My lord," Fionn said as he bowed before him and pointed toward the shipyard. "Those warships seen from afar apparently sent one to dock here. The men had a quarrel amongst the townsfolk and a fight broke out. They've been restrained and are now being deported as we speak."

King Cormac still was quite silent. He only rode around the trashed bins and concessions before he turned back to see the last of the foreign men being forced back onto their boat and made to set sail.

"If I were you, my king, I would suggest having guard ships posted at each shore-town to ensure this does not happen again," Fionn suggested.

King Cormac still rode on as if he hadn't heard the man. After a while he noticed the mud undertow turned up violently. Pointing down he turned toward his captain of the knights and asked, "What took place here?"

Before Fionn could ever speak, his grandson, Oscar, jumped forward and exclaimed, "It was Diarmuid Ua Duibhne! He had taken down around a 100 of those foreigners with mere metal rods in hand. Had I not stated he's always been an amazing warrior?"

King Cormac didn't show any emotion pertaining to what Oscar had exclaimed, instead he simply turned his horse around and returned to his guard. Without a word he went to ride off.

"My lord, will you post guard ships at the docks?" Fionn asked, looking toward his king.

"I will not," King Cormac stated, looking toward the knight. "This will serve as an opportune moment. I am sure that the likes of one would-be warrior had angered their ranks. What they did here was just a show of boredom and by this event it is known they were not acting under any rule. So let them come again and create whatever mayhem they deem worthy. I will decide whether or not to bid time to declare war."

"War?" Oscar spoke up in confusion. "We cannot go to war, my King. The people are already tired with your endless taxes. You press them into peasanthood."

"Be silent, Oscar," his grandfather warned him before looking toward his king. "Forgive him, your majesty; he was in no place to speak such words before you. Whatever you will it shall be done."

After the king had taken his guard and left, Oscar nearly threw a fit. He turned toward his grandfather with angry brown eyes. "What kind of knights would we be if we didn't protect the people from enemies?" he asked, walking alongside his grandfather while they settled everything up within town. "What would the people think of their so-called guardians? They would despise us if we did nothing."

"The king's rule is absolute," Fionn said.

Oscar merely sighed and forced himself to hold his tongue. He had left his grandfather's side knowing that the king and he had been close friends and still remains close to this day. His grandfather had been one of King Cormac's first knights and so blindly follows him, even against better judgment.

Their kingdom was still suffering from the last war, and its people tired and burdened too heavily with outrageous taxes that will never get the country out of debt. They needed something that would set their peoples spirits on fire once more because the souls around Oscar were colors of gray and black, never as vibrant as they used to be.

They had lost many to the Isle Wars and King Cormac would have had every young man slain in the war if not his knights actually pleaded with him to sue for peace. Reluctantly he did so and thus afterward he punished the people of the land for giving up.

Oscar had never been to the isle next in times of peace but he had heard of how alive it was, or had been . . . after Diarmuid's return he couldn't assume it's been well under the new rule of that foreign king. But still, Queen Altria had been a ruler he had longed to see in all fairness. After times of the war he had heard from travelers how noble she was and how mighty she held herself.

A ruler fit to have a knight as Diarmuid it seemed.

With a smile Oscar went to head toward the rest of the knights who were settling things up with the town's patrol before someone touched his arm. He turned and noticed it was two women, both of whom owned shops that had been vandalized.

"Good sir knight," they spoke softly to him, their eyes keeping close on the other knights. "Did we hear right in you mentioning Diarmuid Ua Duibhne?"

"Indeed," Oscar said as he turned to them with a smile and patted their frail hands. He knew most people still remembered the loud youth, he had been nearly around the whole isle before his departure toward the neighboring kingdom and even after the Isle Wars none had hated the man for staying true to his queen and the kingdom he swore himself to. "He had been here just a moment ago. I am sure many saw him."

"We did." Suddenly a few other shopkeepers came up and then a few townsfolk and travelers, all coming to the young knight and inquiring about the old native. "When has he returned back?" "How long has it been since?" "Why has he not shown himself to us still?" All those questions were asked and Oscar admitted he could not answer them and bid them ask Diarmuid if ever they see him again.

Often times Oscar envied Diarmuid's spirit, the kind that attracts all people to it. He's heard from the watchers of theirs in the neighboring kingdom that Diarmuid's banishment had put a downcast upon the people of the land because they had loved him so much. The warrior hadn't been born on that isle and yet the people still loved him just as much as they did their native-born queen. Even here the people still remembered and loved Diarmuid.

But that spirit that attracted so much positive also happens to attract the negative that included the hate of Queen Altria's husband for the affair he dared instigate with his wife. It may seem as if one man's hatred versus the love of near millions of isle dwellers, but said foreign king had an armada and an army, so his hate was their hate as well.

"I suppose it's a blessing and a curse, Diarmuid," Oscar muttered to himself as he returned to his steed and prepared to leave with the rest of the knights. "But you can't hide forever." He turned toward the docks and watched the slowly shrinking war vessel as it sailed off. "Something's coming that will involve all the isles once again and its people—both foreign and native."

That much Oscar could tell. He knew he wasn't the only one that could feel the tensions of the lands rising into the air.

* * *

After the incident in town, Diarmuid had accompanied the older farmer and Gráinne into town any time they traveled there. So far nothing had happened, but the ships were still seen from afar. Though upon returning, Diarmuid received many gifts and much thanks from the entire town, all knowing of his real identity and remembering him well.

"Well, ye seem mighty popular, Diarmuid," the old farmer would say with a chuckle as he chewed on the butt of his pipe whilst the two sat out on the porch and watched spring melt away the ice and snow in the fields. "I'm just a lowly farmer and don't reckon I've known too much about ye, but word of mouth bids me know ye well just like everyone else."

"Doesn't matter," Diarmuid replied while he rubbed his cold hands together. "Remember me how you or the others will, I'm no longer like that."

"What a shame." Diarmuid looked up toward the old farmer who looked down at him while nodding his head. "Ye'd get many a woman and child disheartened at those words. Every lad and elder man knew of ye fiery spirit and envied it. To say that ye are no longer what they's once strived to be shall stamp them hearts into the mud. They'll see it as a lost chance to be like ye. A good role model ye was."

"Anyone can have that adventurous spirit I once had. It's just the mistakes I've made that brought me down. My only advice is to travel down those same roads I did, the right ones. It's all I can say."

"Tis that all, Diarmuid of the shining face?" The old farmer asked, puffing whisks of smoke toward the ex-knight whom couldn't help but choke a little. He looked toward the old man again, tears in his eyes from the smoke as the farmer said, "I have heard of ye banishment. Such a shameful way to return home I do agrees, but I do still hear that isle longs for ye services again and the people mourn ye presence. Even in the midst of ye dishonor there is happiness. Why, I have heard that a romance had blossomed between yeself and that young queen."

"I believe the official title is: affair," Diarmuid corrected but received a swat to the shoulder.

"Bah!" the old farmer spat. "Keep on calling it that then tis no wonders ye mind's in the ditches."

Diarmuid blinked in astonishment at how lighthearted the farmer had become. In fact he was all grins again, much like the rest of the people. Sure it made no difference how one worded it, it was still a sin to sleep with another man's wife but in that they all knew that Diarmuid had loved Altria from the bottom of his heart and in that love there was his happiness and they got this . . . the people actually understood this. And it took some toothless old farmer to show Diarmuid this.

"News tells she's had a second child," The Farmer stated while Diarmuid confirmed with a subconscious nod. "The child yers?" Diarmuid nodded once more. "Was the babe a boy or a girl?" "A boy," Diarmuid said and suddenly his voice hitched and he found his eyes stinging to redness. "What be the name of the little one?" "Erin. His name's Erin," Diarmuid answered as tears came down his hard face and he forced his head down out of sight from the kind old man.

While Diarmuid shivered in his sorrow, astonished with himself at weeping in front of the old man like this he was even more so astonished how that crooked hand of his touched his shoulder and patted softly.

"There, there," the old farmer said. "Sometimes unseen happiness is the hardest to deal with once ye knows it's a happiness." There was a brief pause while Diarmuid continued to weep with the old farmer's hand upon him, the young man suddenly leaning against the rocking chair the farmer sat himself on. "I may be half blind but I can tell ye's really loved ye lady. No doubt this happened after she had wedded that king from afar. A shame ye realized so late." Diarmuid looked up at the man, his eyes red and the tears on his face now so cold from the air around. "Against God ye decided to pit yeself and loved another man's wife. But . . . no matter how innocent one would think, sins are always found out and now the Lord above refuses to let ye set eyes upon ye's own babe. I know it's hard but remember to look for the happiness: ye lady still does love ye, and ye child be alive and healthy."

A cold breeze blew through the field and past every living thing, but the two humans sitting on the porch refused to shiver and merely looked out beyond in thoughts of their own.

"I know tis hard to believe but I once was as young as ye, with a young bride and youngin' babes. My wife, the most beautiful woman on this isle was so heartbroken because three babes already were taken into death's embrace before their first birthday. So sad was she that when the forth came she wished the same not happen with her and so she figured the little one not have to meet death alone and went with her. Tis too young for a beauty like her to fade so, but she did and now I was left here thinking that my happiness was gone, but it's not. I still have my friends and my animals—though they are no replacin' my family, I do know that I will see them again and in that I am happy. Ye," The old farmer looked down at Diarmuid and went to pinch his cheek. "Ye have a lady that loves ye and a babe that carries your blood, be proud of that. In that, maybe ye spirit shalt return to ye."

With that said, the old farmer leant back in his chair and placed his pipe back into his mouth. Though his hand still remained on Diarmuid's shoulder and in that Diarmuid was comforted. Diarmuid couldn't count how many times someone had to place their hands upon him and let him feel the essence of their own spirit so that he may draw some strength from them. It was becoming ridiculous and so Diarmuid decided then and there that he was done thinking of past sins and began thinking upon his blessings.

The old man was right; he had a lady whom still loved him and a child, a son that she had born to him, who was alive and healthy. What more could he want if not those simple joys?

After the beginning of spring it wasn't a lie to say that Diarmuid had become more _attractive_. His steps were broader, his stance upright and his smile, to die for. Of course he did not gloat upon the sins of his past but he no longer dwelt on them. The monthly visits from his friends helped him greatly and even they could tell his mood had changed.

He even began to head into town regularly just to chat with the townsfolk. They all enjoyed his presence greatly, but one day when he headed into town he saw something he hadn't expected.

There Diarmuid stood with a bucket of corned beef the farmer gave to him as an early lunch while he headed into town, but his grip loosened on the bucket and the contents were for naught. Before him, he looked to see that the shore-town had been pillaged. The houses were still there, but the belongings of the people were trashed out into the muddy streets and many a man lay beaten to near death and the women . . .

Diarmuid ran into the town and came to the closest wounded person. It was a woman, no younger than 18. Her clothes had been torn to near rags and she wept, trying with the little strength she had to pull the fabric over her naked body. At first, when Diarmuid touched her shoulder and used his cloak to conceal her she had jumped but as she turned her red eyes toward him she threw herself at him with weeping and gnashing of teeth.

"Diarmuid!" she cried out. "Diarmuid, they returned, they returned!"

The man needn't know who she was speaking of. His eyes immediately went toward the docks and noticed not one, but three ships coasting the area with another more distant in the back. Narrowing his eyes he stood up and then dashed off to help whomever he could. He had noticed many a people saying they had sent messengers to the king, begging for the knights but no one had come and it had been the towns ravaging that occurred because of their lack of defenses.

And so, with Diarmuid in a rage he borrowed a horse and rode to the King's castle where he pushed himself past guard and entered the king's throne room himself.

"King Cormac!" Diarmuid shouted while he entered the room, the guards and knights around about drew their weapons when he came in suddenly. "Did you know that a shore-town has been attacked by those foreign warships that you so kindly claimed you took care of?"

The king, seated upon his throne simply waved his guard away and looked at the young warrior with dark eyes. "So the town is lost?"

Diarmuid shook his head. "No building had been leveled nor folk slain, but the men were beaten, their belongings pillaged and their wives and daughters raped. I demand to know why you did not answer their call for help!"

"Might I ask why you are moved with this, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne? You are no longer a warrior; no longer a protector, so what does it concern you?" The king asked with a small snicker.

"They are my friends!" Diarmuid shouted. "I have every right to care for them and concern does grow upon the crown that does not shield its own citizens."

"They're rogue ships," The king informed.

"Rogue?"

"Meaning they are just acting on their own," King Cormac continued. "So far we've spotted at least four, there could be more, but whatever their reason they've been close to our shores in a means to provoke."

"Attacking your shore-town is a declaration of war. You cannot mean to sit on your goddamn throne and do nothing!" Diarmuid demanded justice.

"It is not a declaration of war because those ships are not acting on any particular order besides their own," King Cormac said with a sigh. "And if I were to attack them then no doubt the rest of their fleet would see it as I, myself, declaring war and I simply cannot afford a war right now."

"What are you saying?" Diarmuid asked, narrowing his eyes. "Just months earlier you persisted on a war with the neighboring kingdom. What are you planning?"

"A mere commoner like you need not know what _I_ plan for _my_ kingdom," Cormac said. "I am king and my rule is absolute."

"If not attack the ships then let your own war ships guard the shore-towns. You have so many that can be targeted by these vessels," Diarmuid insisted.

"As I have said," King Cormac began as he stood and looked down at the young man. "I am king and if I wish to say to my ships to stay in their docks then they will!"

"What about your people? !" Diarmuid once again persisted. "Do your subjects mean nothing to you?"

"Silence your tongue!" King Cormac commanded as his guard drew near and drew their weapons once more. The knights around, though continued to grip their handles, knowing not whom to defend. "You yourself once held the opportunity to become one of my knights but you refused. As a knight you could protect them, the people of the shore."

"And swear my life and spears to a king who would have his own knights sit idle and watch as men are tortured and women are raped? ! I could never swear my services to you! I tell you this day that I shall take up my spears again and replace you as this land's guardian."

"You cannot be king, Diarmuid. Once a knight, always a knight," King Cormac said with a chuckle as he watched the dark-haired man turn and push past the guards once more to leave.

"But I was always a protector, the one thing kings and knights have most in common," Diarmuid stated before his presence left the castle. King Cormac had not liked how disrespected he was, but the knights around could not comfort him being that their own thoughts and ideas were of the same as Diarmuid's.

"You could have him killed, my king," Fionn spoke up, looking at his old friend who looked in trouble thought.

King Cormac eyed his closest knight and then looked on toward his other knights. With a smile he asked them, "What say you, my knights? Should we kill the impotent youth?" He laughed seeing mostly dismay written all over their faces. "Of course his spell even has the hearts of most of my knights." With a sigh the king leaned back in his throne and then shook his head. "No, let him try to defend the coastline. One man cannot go against thousands of men. He'll kill himself with that pity of his."

"But he is right, my lord!"

King Cormac looked to see one of his knights trembling. He looked about ready to turn heel and follow Diarmuid earlier and now, he looked as if he still contemplated that idea. The king merely chuckled and the knight spoke up once more, "Our duty is to defend this land and the people. Why sacrifice so many for nothing?"

"Oh, no it will not be for nothing," King Cormac said. "Once they've slain Diarmuid I shall have that threat out of my way and then when most of my eastern shore-towns have been ransacked I shall send message to that foreign king and tell him of my anger from his uncontrolled ships. By then I'll have enough ships built as well as the gold from those ships to use as pay for those mercenaries I promised since my own people refuse to fight. War is eminent and sometimes we need losses to make our declaration look its best when presented to the enemy."

King Cormac had been king since his youth, after his father had died in a battle with none other than Queen Altria's father, King Uther. From thence on Cormac held a grudge against the ruler and that grudge continued on when he passed away and his kingdom passed down to a single female heir. It had been an opportune moment to seize the kingdom and to piss on Uther's grave, what with most nobles for Cormac being the strong male ruler in midst of the isles. Thus the Isle Wars began.

They had lasted years and just when King Cormac had believed himself to be the strongest and his kingdom to reign supreme, a hurricane overcame most of his armada and he lost many a ship. The men already fighting on the isle were suddenly being beaten back by the young Queen herself along with a newly acquitted faith of her people. They had accepted her even though she was a woman and unfit to rule. They saw she had and so did her knights whose might proved too great for even Cormac's knights.

The loss of that war hurt his kingdom but mostly his pride and more importantly . . . the faith of his people. He could see now how thin their alliance was with him. After the war he had to rule over them with an iron fist but now that Diarmuid's returned he's upset his people and now they flock to him as if he should be ruler. That boy was no ruler and King Cormac would soon see him dead than have him threaten his throne. Cormac would show this land who is king and who have always been king as appointed by God Himself!

Princess Gráinne had heard all that had transpired from the moment Diarmuid burst into the throne room to the time he marched back out of the hall. The woman had been entering the hall with a few maids, a tray of food for her father when Diarmuid had rammed through the doors. She kept herself unknown so she could leave unknown and when she left she followed Diarmuid back to the farm where she found him in the barn in the dead of the night picking up a wooden long box.

"Diarmuid, what are you doing?" she asked as she watched the man uncover the box that was laden with hay.

"I will not stand myself aside any longer," Diarmuid stated as he opened the box. "What is that?" Gráinne asked and then her eyes widened when she saw the two perfectly sharp spears the man pulled out. "You cannot be serious! You are one man, Diarmuid. What can you hope to accomplish against four, if not more, vessels?"

"Something your father isn't accomplishing," Diarmuid said, looking toward the lady who watched on as he stood straight and tested the weight of each spear before determining which one went in which hand. "And that is the safety of this people."

"But I thought you swore never to pick up spear again?" Gráinne persisted as she came close and placed her hand upon his hand while it gripped tightly onto the spear. "Please, Diarmuid, I'm sure that my father—"

"What?" Diarmuid nearly shouted as he pulled away from the woman and looked at her with a burning in his eyes that she had never seen before. "Has a plan? His plan is to let innocent people die! What good is a king if not for his people? The war has changed him, Gráinne. I am sorry but I do not recognize your father any longer."

"I know," Gráinne whispered with her head bowed before she looked up at Diarmuid with tears in her eyes. "But he's my father as well as my king and I ask that you do not defy him."

"He is not my king and so I hold no allegiance to his wishes," Diarmuid said as he walked outside and began swinging his spears around at the bells of hay.

Gráinne followed and stood near. "He could kill you, Diarmuid! If he wanted to he could kill you."

"Let him try," was Diarmuid's only response as he swung his long spear round and sliced a haybell cleanly in half.

* * *

**TheThirdTime'sACharm: So yep, you can tell I wrote this quickly since I have still YET to name the farmer. Oh well :/**

**Tensions, tentsions everywhere! What shall happen next? Stay tuned and don't forget to tell me what you think! :D**


	8. The Title of the Land

Queen Altria couldn't have been more upset over the news her guard had just informed her of. This upset brought upon a frustration and that frustration a headache and it hadn't helped when both her children were squealing in the air at the tops of their lungs.

"Peace, enough!" Altria bid as she leant down and picked up her son who had been clutching her gown, squealing while his sister ran circles around their mother and on her way around she'd tickle him senseless. Princess Igraine stopped and clasped both her hands together behind her back. Her bright green eyes now darkening as she bowed her head. "Sorry, mother."

Altria held onto her son tightly, almost struggling with him to sit in her lap, seeing how the young prince decided his place was no longer in his mother's lap but upon the ground to crawl around and explore.

"It is how it is, my queen," the guard said as he bowed to her. He was the one who had been selected to sail to the neighboring kingdom and find Diarmuid to inform him of the going on's. "They're turning ships back for unknown reasons."

"They should at least give a reason," Altria muttered as she pressed her lips against her son's fuzzy raven-haired head. "Have we suddenly become enemies once more?"

"We've received no word," the guard said, letting out a sigh. "We will continue to remain hopeful though and keep trying."

"Thank you," Altria said with a small smile. "But be careful, please."

"We shall," he said as he bowed and then little Erin squealed so high that the guard turned to him and knelt down to look at the child. With a smile the guard said, "My, the more he grows, the more I see of his father in him."

"What about me?"

Suddenly Igraine bounded forward and leaned herself against her mother and brother, waiting her turn for inspection. "You're just the identical image of your mother, princess," the guard said as he patted her golden head while she giggled.

"Tis 'cause I'm a girl," she stated seeing that as her only reason. Altria chuckled and held her daughter closer to her. Her son, Erin, decided it was time to start clinging to his sister's dress and so began tugging on the pastel fabric. "Eh! No, Erin, stop it!" Igraine whined, trying to pry his little chubby fingers off her gown.

"At ease, Igraine," Altria bade, easing her son's fingers off her daughter herself. "He's just an infant; he won't tear your gown."

The little girl only pouted but Altria still had other worries. She worried why her merchant ships were no longer allowed to dock. She was certain their past quarrels had been forgotten and their trade was still fully functional. So then why?

"Worry not yourself, my lady," her guard said, bowing again to her. "We'll keep trying."

And they did keep trying, for months. It was well into summer and still their ships had not been allowed. No news as to why this was occurring and so Altria feared she may have to send a few of her guard to the isle by force to find out the secrets they were keeping.

Every month that passed gave a wound to the queen. Not knowing how her lover faired hurt her and she knew he was probably hurt not knowing about her or their son. The loneliness she had to endure took its toll upon her but she pressed on and continued to hope for some negotiation.

But it never came.

* * *

The raids had once spanned from weeks but this time from months. Diarmuid didn't know where they'd strike next. He had visited most shore-towns along the east coast but whenever one was attacked he had always found himself too late to aide them or already in another town. He had cursed his timing and found himself to look like a fool, chasing a small band of ships like this.

But no one laughed at him. No, many actually welcomed him and his spears. Though the people had heard tale of him from his services to the neighboring kingdom and especially the stories of how his spears fell upon their people, they did not seek to hide their faces from him. They knew his skill was great and were thus thankful that he had chosen to spare them their blade for once and defend them with his life.

In that he had been being called a knight though the title was not official upon him. So often had Diarmuid been called, "Good Sir Knight," or "Sir Diarmuid," that he felt as if the days of his knighthood had returned to him, with the ladies curtseying and the men bowing their heads. Diarmuid felt he didn't deserve such respect but it was given to him nonetheless. When he bid they treat the other knights and royalty like this the people would scoff and shame their names, cursing them to the grave because they had not defended them when the raids took place.

One might feel ashamed that a banished man, stripped of all entitlements, was in the process of being the land's sole guardian. Many a knight actually were and whenever one happened to meet Diarmuid they did offer their thanks and bid great apologies for their ruler.

"Do not bow to me," Diarmuid said as he helped the young teary-eyed knight to his feet. "I know your soul longs to protect your people but your oath to your king bids you listen to his orders regardless. Know that when the time comes those true to this land and kingdom will know of the ones whose hearts were still with the people."

The man nodded and wiped his red eyes. He wasn't the first knight that Diarmuid had seen like this. Many a distraught knight had actually sought him out, begging him for forgiveness and thrusting the shame they held inside out into the open. Diarmuid was once a knight too and he knew of that shame of not protecting when their very bones longed to die for their citizens. It was becoming a sad sight.

Doing all of this had lightened Diarmuid's soul much, just as that old farmer said it would. Doing what Diarmuid was born to do came so naturally that all his past wrongs were hardly remembered in these times. He was born to serve and serving these people in need offered his consciousness much rest. Though his continuous movement ensured him that he would never see his fellow brothers again. Of course it hadn't mattered, King Cormac had bid no ship come or leave his shores, but of those warships raiding the towns—well, he could care less.

The situations on the coast had even traveled inland to the peasants. They had family often living near the coasts and were concerned with the rule. Many of this kingdom's subjects lived along the coast and when one visiting it from inland or the west coast came of concern to the lay of the towns they had to look for their king for reasoning. It had been said that the king received many a complaint from his subjects that he, of course, ignored. So lately, many a riots were breaking out and they were just as horrible as the raids.

"We can't live on our own shores for fear of foreigners! What has our King been doing in that damn castle of his? Sitting on the pot? How long must we continue to live like this? !" The cries and exclamations were always the same to the point Diarmuid wondered if he could travel anywhere and not hear them. Currently he was sitting on a crate outside a tavern, drinking ale and watching a large group of the townsfolk gather together and shout their complaints. This town lived near a shore-town, but it was safe from the raids and it happened to be the town that Diarmuid had chosen to stay in for the upcoming night.

So he passed his time by watching these men and some women who shouted at the top of their lungs. Night had set in and Diarmuid wondered when the patrollers would happen upon them and inform them that others were ready for slumber. No, they just continued shouting and shouting.

"All that man cares about are wars!" a rounded woman shouted, raising her fist in the air and urging others to copy.

"Of course he does!" a short man spoke up, chewing on the butt of a pipe. "Why I've known that man since he was a child and he had always been of the mean sorts. You can't pick rulers!"

"If he will not defend his people then why not a lord? Why can they not send their men and help?"

"That's because the king's taken even the lords' men. He's taken any able body fer himself!"

"What, is he afraid the ships should raid his own city and castle? Bah! I should hope so and I should hope they slit that man's throat while they're at it!"

"Hold your tongue! You could be killed for treasonous talks," a man warned the lady who had just spoken of her high hopes for the king's dead. She just placed her hands on her hips and sneered at the man bidding her to keep quiet.

"I aren't afraid of nothin'," she said. "The king isn't here and neither are his knights. If they aren't protectin' us then they aren't watchin' us, especially what we say!"

Diarmuid sat his cup down beside him and leaned his hand against his spears, afraid this one may get out of hand. He'd already seen to a few that had. Suddenly, before anything happened the patrol came around and the four men bid the people to settle down.

"Alright," they started. "It's three in the morning. Folks are already settled in their beds hoping for some shut eye. Could you be so kind in letting them fall into slumber?"

"You useless men would like if we listened to you like whipped dogs!" A large man said, coming up to the leader of the patrol part and flung his baton out of his hand. "Be off with ya!"

"No." Suddenly a scarlet spear sliced the distance between the two parties and both turned to look toward the wielder of the weapon who stood near. "You be off."

Instead of a boisterous uproar, both parties quieted and Diarmuid could hear the people whispering amongst themselves, saying, "That's Diarmuid Ua Duibhne." "I thought he patrolled the shores." "I had thought the same."

Of course Diarmuid grew out of his surprise with how many citizens knew him. Most of the isle did by now.

"I myself am about to return to my room and bed. I should wish to fall into dream, not be woken up by your loud ranting," Diarmuid said.

"But you agree, don't you, good sir?" they asked.

"Fighting amongst yourselves will solve nothing," Diarmuid said as he pulled his spear away from the two parties and swung it at his side with one swift movement. "The people are already at odds against their ruler; don't break this country into any smaller fragments."

With that Diarmuid walked between the groups toward the inn where he had set his room. There he did sleep a peaceful night with only the easy winds nudging the housing, no more noisy protesters.

He didn't know where he had gotten the gift for settling arguments. He supposed it was his forceful nature for a standstill in fighting. But that often required the show of his blade and skill on the battlefield, and lately he's been having to make the people see the reason and encourage them to stay together as much as possible.

There were still more riots but no one had really gotten hurt. Their violence was mostly aimed toward the knights, some to the point where these groups of rioters would march up to the knights' homes and land and even attack their families. Diarmuid had seen this once and swore to himself to never let it happen again.

He remembered it clearly; the lady of the home had been torn from her bed in the middle of the night and thrown to the ground where she tried to cover her two small children, both little girls. They had trembled and cried, especially to their father who had been beaten to the ground, shamed and defenseless. If the mob hadn't decided to burn down the knight's home then Diarmuid would have just passed by while he journeyed from inland toward the shore.

With his spears in hand he ran to the family's aid and struck the attackers to the ground. Looking down at the knight had brought shame upon Diarmuid and even more so upon the sight of the man's wife and daughters.

"How dare you!" Diarmuid shouted, his rage so great that his heated gaze backed the mob away a few steps. "How dare you attack your own! What has this man and his family ever done to you? Tell me!"

"Nothing!" one protestor had shouted. "He doesn't deserve to be a knight because of his negligence to defend our lives and land!"

"If he has done nothing then do nothing to him!" Diarmuid shouted. "Forget his existence if you wish, but never lay a finger upon him and especially his family!"

"I thought you were for us, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne!"

"I am for justice," Diarmuid stated as he knelt down next to the weeping wife of the knight who had crawled closer to where her husband lay unconscious with her daughters in her arms. "And this is not justice. This is animalism and you, my fellow people, are fine rabid dogs!"

The emotion and disappointment in Diarmuid's voice had quelled the peoples' anger and there had not been an attack on the knights, more so they had heeded Diarmuid's advice and began ignoring their existence. It was a shame to the knights, but as long as they were unharmed and most of all their families' safe then Diarmuid would settle the issue later.

Now he was on the lookout for a raid and one day when he was helping a town recover from one, the unexpected happened.

"They've returned!"

The cry set everyone in a panic and just as the people began running back into the housings, Diarmuid bid them remain calm. Oddly enough the people had gathered together and heeded his words. All clutching together they turned to him, frightened and shivering.

"I shall protect you," He promised to them as he held his spears close. "They shall no longer harm you, this I swear upon my life."

"But there are hundreds!" one man cried out.

Diarmuid only smiled and slammed his fist against his chest. "Trust in me as your guardian. I can use all of your faith."

With a nod Diarmuid turned and ran off toward the docks. He made it to the shipyard just in time to catch the men exiting the ship. He hadn't let them off the docks. Simply plowing through them and shoving them into the waters below before he hoped on board.

"What are you doing?" the men onboard demanded.

"These waters are prohibited from foreign docking," Diarmuid stated. "You are violating this kingdom's law. I will spare life if you return to your fleet and bid them return from whence you came."

"If you attack us this could be war!" they shouted.

"You've already made it war," Diarmuid bit out darkly before showing the men his spears and disabling every man aboard. He hadn't killed anyone like he had promised Queen Altria but he had been so tempted.

Crippled to the point where the ship could hardly sail, Diarmuid was surprised to watch the ship leave. Once the ship was out of sight the people returned and place their hard hands upon him. "What if they return tenfold, Diarmuid! ?" the people cried out in fear, but all Diarmuid had to do was turn to them and smile comfortingly.

"Then you shall have me by your side," he promised and it was this promise that stole the people's hearts.

Diarmuid had no deaf ears. He knew of the people's affection for him and in that affection it reminded him of the land he had once called home where the people had loved him as one of them. Though he had not paid too much attention to the whispers being passed about the king and his upheaved state. If he would have, he might have known of how great a disturbance his presence now caused inside the castle.

"The people rally behind him? He is but one man!" King Cormac spat at his informers.

"It is known he took down an entire vessel," the informer stated. "Quite a feat for one man; he saved an entire town from second raid. The people owe much to him."

"I have also heard he quiets the rioters," an adviser spoke up. "Those same rioters wishing to dethrone you, my liege."

"And he saved mine and my family's lives!" a knight stood forward, the tell-tell signs of a beating left upon his marred skin.

"Then who is he for, hm?" King Cormac asked. "My law or his own? I can tell you he does not wish to swear to me. No, he'd rather try and do my army's job and defend this land himself. He cannot do it."

"Thus far he has," the informer stated. "And the people have titled him a knight, their knight."

"So the people rule now, is it?" King Cormac asked, rubbing his frustrated facial features. "I cannot have him attack those ships."

"I know of you plan, my king," Fionn spoke up. "But we have let these foreigners raid many a town and even stopped trade from the neighboring isle and still we are nowhere close toward the tensions between that isle that you have wished for. The tensions only rise within our own rank."

"Soon," Cormac spoke up, holding his finger in the air. "That boy will run out of strength and support and when that day comes he'll slip and fall to his own death. I shall have no part in this. This will be the lesson learned to the people: They cannot trust anyone but their king."

But no matter the threats, this did not deter the people from adoring the man. No one had spoken of the possibility of swearing off their own king and following Diarmuid, but that the king should change or step down from his throne. They were tired of being tossed around by the nobles and now their spirits were on fire.

Everyone, King Cormac, the knights, the nobles, and even Diarmuid admitted that they had never seen the people of the land this on fire since the Isle Wars when they had been full of pride for their land. Diarmuid smiled at the spirit and reflected it upon himself. Because of this great fire amongst the people, Diarmuid had been informed quicker on when a raid took place and a horse would quickly be given him so he could travel to the town as fast as possible, but even upon arriving he was greeted by the town itself fighting back the ships and protecting themselves.

Diarmuid was so proud of the people, the people he had been born a part of so long ago. With them defending themselves Diarmuid felt his efforts complete themselves. He had hoped to spur something in the people, not scorn for the king or his knights, but the will to take up weapon and fight themselves and as he passed these towns the people would all raise their weapons and shout out their thanks to him and some actually hailed him.

"Please, let the praise fall upon every man and every woman who found the warrior inside and defended home and land," Diarmuid said as the children of the thankful crowded him and hugged his legs. Diarmuid patted their little heads and chuckled as the little boys pulled back and took up wooden sticks, acting as if they were two spears. "I shall be Diarmuid Ua Duibhne when I grow!" they chanted and giggled together. No matter how many times Diarmuid wished they would become their own warriors, the children were content to be liken to him and so he left the matter.

The praise had been strange at first and when Diarmuid could not persuade the people's hearts away he settled with it and accepted it. What else could he do? Love and adoration felt good on the body and soul and the comfort in it made Diarmuid deal with his life all the more.

Diarmuid knew that if the people began defending the docking posts then the ships may retreat for good and trade with their neighboring kingdom return and with that, his fellow brothers in arms telling him of all that had happened with Altria and his son. That was his most hopeful wish and it looked as if it soon might happen.

There had been one raid, and Diarmuid had been there, watching as the people themselves fought off the mongrels. When the soldiers came close to killing the people, Diarmuid would step in and stop their blades, but mostly King Gilgamesh's men lay on the ground, motionless. Neither feared threat of a war with the other isle because they were simply defending themselves and no war had officially been announced so far.

Still, they had captured a ship and Diarmuid smiled. The people around rejoiced and praised their neighbors, but it had ceased when the king himself and knights came. Diarmuid watched as King Cormac rode his steed close into the main street and looked upon the fallen soldiers. Not one townsfolk had fallen under Diarmuid's protection.

"There's your ship, King Cormac," Diarmuid proclaimed as he pointed toward the empty vessel. "Plunder it if you will but know that your coasts are well guarded so open the docks!"

Suddenly the people raised their arms and weapons and chanted the same thing. "Open the docks!" Once trade came again then more income could come in and the people could return to their daily lives and help the country once more grow to what it used to be. Still, they chanted, "Open the docks! Open the docks!"

"You heard your people," Diarmuid said with a smile as he stared the king down.

He could see the knights behind him. Fionn, the captain, was indifferent, but his grandson and the others around were smiling and the relieved smiles upon their lips showed Diarmuid that they too were tired of this nonsense and glad that their people stood up for themselves and came together as they did. In their eyes was much thanks and Diarmuid didn't know whether to accept their thanks or to thank the knights themselves for their endurance in dealing with the hard king.

Suddenly, there was a cry. Diarmuid and the others turned and watched as not one, nor two, nor even three, but five ships nearly rammed into the docks and before anyone could react, the soldiers came spilling off. This must have been the squadron of ships that had went rogue from the armada and no doubt decided to level a town along with its people since they had been fighting back.

"They keep spilling from the ships!" the people cried as they began backing away. The few hundred were no match to the on growing hundreds that began to number in the thousands.

Jumping into action, Diarmuid took up his spears and ran before the townsfolk, urging them take shelter. "Send word to the other towns," Diarmuid ordered and watched as many a man hopped onto their steeds. "If this gets overbearing then we'll need their aid."

"We can't possibly fight them! They're too many!" the people cried out but Diarmuid simply turned to them and smiled. "Do what you will," Diarmuid said. "Run for your lives or fight for your town, no shame shall befall upon you whatever you do. You're the people of this land so set your spirits on fire to act!"

Then Diarmuid turned from them and ran toward the docks where the men were charging from. There the people watched in awe as the man fought the soldiers. Swinging his spears low at the unguarded ankles and then high at the equally unguarded necks.

Even King Cormac was amazed at the spirit of the young warrior as he slashed at the soldiers. But that did not promote him to take up sword and help. Instead he remained seated upon his horse and then motioned toward the townspeople.

"My knights, I order you to make sure this fight is uninterfered until Diarmuid has been slain," the king ordered.

The town's people immediately began protesting and just as the first few took up their weapons and tried to run to Diarmuid's aid, the knights had taken off their horses and stopped them, all with weapon drawn in trembling hands. Even the people could see the knights' distain at their command.

"Promise us that when he falls we will slay the remaining soldiers, for the people's sake!" the knights begged their king. The king only looked back toward the fight. Diarmuid; the man continued his fight, his thrusts and slices still just as strong. With a sigh, he said, "Be it what you will."

And so everyone turned toward Diarmuid, watching the man slay these attackers. Already he had taken down two hundred from the lack of better armored necks of these soldiers. His skill with the spears was unheard of and most couldn't believe their eyes at the speed and power the warrior was thrusting his spears.

"So this is Diarmuid Ua Duibhne," Oscar whispered, knowing for a fact that he had not seen his longtime friend fight this hard since the Isle Wars when he stood beside his beloved queen. Even so, Diarmuid was stronger now. Those warring years Diarmuid had been but a teen, a young man, now he was toned and his arms laden with more muscle and more power to swing his heavy spears. His skills were honed as well and no knight believed they came even close to matching his ability on the battlefield.

"Is this Diarmuid, or is this just a knight of Queen Altria?" Another knight asked, lost in awe of the man. "He is but among these strong warriors under that queen?"

In those comments King Cormac grew angry. Even he could see that Diarmuid bested his greatest knight by far. Was it true? Was he just among a number of Queen Altria's knights or was this skill rivaling that of a king?

It was just too unsettling for a king being faced with a warrior possibly stronger than his own.

The people cried out, watching Diarmuid take down already 500. It was amazing and none could believe he had done it so quickly and still he pressed on. When he took down 100 more the people became restless and begged the knights let them by so that they may stand by the man's side. The more they struggled the more the knights wanted to let them go.

"Hold them back!" King Cormac spat.

"Father!"

Cormac turned and gasped upon seeing his daughter ride up to the town with her ladies in tow. Fionn, the lady's husband came next to King Cormac and there the two watched the young woman dismount and run up to the knights to peer past them.

"What are you doing?" She asked and gasped upon seeing Diarmuid fight the soldiers all alone. "Father there are too many! What are you doing? !"

"Let this be a lesson to the people," King Cormac said as he turned his gaze back toward the lancer. "No man, be him native or foreign, shall defy the king. If he wishes to become the land's only guardian then he shall fight as the only."

"That's not fair, father!" Gráinne cried out, tears in her eyes as she struggled against her husband's hold. "Fionn, let me go! This is wrong, so wrong!"

"Stay yourself, Gráinne," Fionn said to his wife as he held her close though the girl continued to struggle. "The king's word is absolute and will not be defied."

"It's Diarmuid!" Gráinne cried out, pulling herself away from her husband and looking at the knights. "This entire island knows of him! He was born in this very land, learned how to wield his spears here, and when he returned it was he who rekindled this bitter nation's spirit and united the people. How could you abandon him? !"

Her words brought up a riot within the townsfolk and soon they began fighting against the knights and from those words the knights spirits faltered and the people began to rise against them.

"Stay them I said, Stay them!" King Cormac commanded as he took his sword and stuck a man who had broken past the knight's line. The man fell to the ground, his shoulder bearing a wound from the blade. The people looked at their king and noticed the madness in his eyes as he stood before them and dared them try to run to Diarmuid. "Come near and I shall slay!"

For a people who had never defied their king they stayed for a moment and watched on as Diarmuid continued his battle.

1,500, 1,700, 1,900, was that many of a body count possible? Just as Diarmuid brought down the 1,967th his arms became heavy and everyone could see his movements slow. The people gasped and then it was a young woman who cried out, "Protect us, Sir Diarmuid! Protect us!" Suddenly the entire people shouted this and as they did, aide came from the towns near and they too joined in on the chanting. Soon there were thousands of citizens surrounding, all throwing their fists into the air and crying out for Diarmuid to receive their spirit that it may set his own on fire.

And it did.

A hard slash swung behind proved that Diarmuid's strength had returned to him. He had completely decapitated the soldier meant to strike him from behind; the head flew feet into the air from the impact and when Diarmuid turned back around his two spears came down in unison and sliced clean through the golden armor of the soldier before him. How sharp were those blades? Had they not dulled?

2,000, Diarmuid had slain 2,000 on his own and he continued the count and suddenly the ground beneath Diarmuid's feet became a pile of bodies but the rest of the soldiers had not stopped to strike him. The encouraging shouts had not ceased in volume, no they had grown as the crowd around the town grew and soon thousands upon thousands were around, watching on and cheering for the man who received his strength from them.

"Diarmuid," Gráinne whispered, clasping her hands together and praying that God hear her prayers and see him through this test. She had not noticed the great anger in her father's face as Diarmuid swung his spears and slew his 2,331st soldier. None had noticed the way the king gripped the handle of his sword tighter to where his knuckles turned white.

The line of knights had dispersed and the people stood alongside the men watching as Diarmuid slew the last of the men. It had been a miracle and something so unheard of but it had happened before their very eyes and they would remember it for the rest of their lives and make sure the world remembered it for the rest of eternity. It was too great to forget.

2,456. That was the number of foreign soldiers Diarmuid Ua Duibhne had slain as the last man fell Diarmuid couldn't even drop his spears because his grip had held onto his weapons for so long and so hard. He stood, about ready to fall before he threw his head back and shouted to the heavens his victory cry. It was one of utter weariness but pure happiness.

The moment the man fell, the people rushed to him. They had ran so fast that Diarmuid's head barely had time to hit the ground before he was being scooped up into the townsfolk's arms. His muscles had been so tense that he couldn't stop shaking and when the people tried to pry the spears out of his hands he just chuckled and asked them to leave them.

"He did it," Gráinne gasped out before bowing her head into her hands and weeping in happiness. "He did it!"

No one had kept track of the time so none knew how long it had taken Diarmuid to defeat the army all on his own, but he did it and that was all that mattered. The people around cheered for him and took turns placing their hands upon him and in that he was dubbed a hero. A hero to the land and its people, but not the king.

King Cormac tightened the grip upon the sword he held and immediately marched through the crowds and when he reached the center where Diarmuid lay he pushed the people holding onto him away and then the point of his blade was shoved before the man's face. Diarmuid blinked in confusion before his golden eyes met the angry dark brown irises of the king's.

"Stand and fight me now, oh heroic Diarmuid Ua Duibhne," the King commanded as he backed away only slightly to give the warrior room to rise.

"What have I done?" Diarmuid asked, feeling the hands upon his shoulders and arms tighten because of the concern flowing through the people around.

"Stand and fight!" The order this time was so forceful that Diarmuid's legs about shot him straight up into a standing position, but he was weary and knew that he couldn't even stand as commanded.

"Father!" everyone turned to see Princess Gráinne push herself through the crowd and stand near her father. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Stand aside, Gráinne, this matter does not concern you," Cormac said, keeping his eyes upon the lain warrior.

"If it concerns Diarmuid then it concerns me!" the woman protested, shaking her head. "You cannot expect him to fight you after having already defeated so many. He is a hero, father and not to be treated as a criminal, especially by you!"

Those words had earned the princess a backhand. Gráinne reeled back in shock, holding onto her red stinging cheek while she looked at her father. She had never seen the man so upset, but she had been hit by her father before so the sting from the strike was no stranger to her.

"I shall not warn you again," Cormac spat. "Stand aside, girl!"

Gráinne knew she shouldn't have raised her chin in defiance knowing that another strike would befall her, but Diarmuid was her friend and not in any wrong so if she was the only one to stand before her father then should would, no matter how hard the man beat her. However, the strike had not come, instead her eyes widened upon seeing a crimson blade slicing the space between she and her father, when she turned she saw Diarmuid struggling to seat himself upright with the help of the townsfolk around him.

"What is this really about?" Diarmuid asked, his eyes narrowing. "I have never seen that hatred in your eyes, King Cormac, especially directed toward me. You look down upon me as if I am your enemy."

"You have rightly become one," Cormac said as he watched the man rise to his shaking legs, still not able to hold himself upright because of the strain from the recent battle that had immortalized him. "You have moved the people against me, their king!"

"You are still their king," Diarmuid said, moving Gráinne aside with the shaft of his spear where the people behind him took her into their arms and held her close. "Albeit a neglecting one. You still have time to right your wrongs with them."

"I do, I agree," King Cormac said, swinging his sword at Diarmuid suddenly, the man barely dodged it and received a slice around the cheekbone. "And you're one of those wrongs!"

The people around gasped, roaring in an rant at how quickly the king had come upon Diarmuid, but none made a move to come closer. They watched in horror as their king made to kill their newly acquired hero.

"I should have never allowed your return!" King Cormac shouted as he swung and thrust and slashed his way at Diarmuid, the blade making contact with the man's skin quite a bit since Diarmuid's movement lacked its agility. Since Diarmuid's grip still tightly held onto his spears none feared him ever dropping them, but with the way he brought them up to deflect the hard on hits from King Cormac, most feared the king to cut the spears in half.

When Diarmuid had fallen to one knee, King Cormac slammed his sword over and over into the same spot on the crimson spear's shaft, hoping to break the very weapon that had made the lancer great in both kingdoms. "I should have killed you when you defied me in my own castle! I should have hunted you down like the dog you are! You're nothing but a heathen! A foreigner! You sided against me and chose her, that harlot of a queen! It is your fault I had lost the Isle Wars, all yours!"

On and on the king went and the people around gasped, watching as the spear in Diarmuid's hand was struck and thusly sent flying out of his hand. King Cormac had managed to open Diarmuid's hand and now, the raven-haired warrior's hand was limp, his only other weapon was in his left hand and most feared King Cormac to strike it away too as Diarmuid brought it up to defend himself against King Cormac's continuous strikes.

"What made you think you could return so easily after defiling yourself and that land? ! Now you defile _my_ people, _my_ land, and _my_ rule! You're nothing but a sinner, a disease and it is up to the king to be rid of you!"

King Cormac had struck the golden spear away, but it was still clasp within Diarmuid's hand. From the strike alone Diarmuid had lost balance and fell to the floor, upon landing Diarmuid gasped out a cry as King Cormac thrust his sword into his collar. The bone had halted Cormac's descent and so just as it broke in two, Diarmuid rose his leg and kicked the man away.

As King Cormac rolled to the right, Diarmuid forced himself to stand, using the remainder of his energy. Placing his right hand upon his wound, Diarmuid held his spear before the king and circled him. Standing up once more King Cormac looked at Diarmuid with dark eyes and circled him in kind.

"If you wish me gone, King Cormac, then I shall leave!" Diarmuid swore. Nothing like this was worth fighting over and he was through with conflicts. "Cease this useless quarrel! I am not here to challenge your rule!"

"Diarmuid! How blind can you be?" Oscar, Fionn's grandson suddenly shouted out. Diarmuid turned his eyes toward him as the man said, "By winning the allegiance of this land and its people you have become a candidate for a king!"

Understanding suddenly struck Diarmuid and as he turned his attention back toward King Cormac who looked at him with deadly eyes. "No," Diarmuid said, shaking his head. "I hadn't meant . . . I was just defending this land! I am no candidate for a king!"

"Then I shall ask," Oscar said, turning toward the worried onlookers. "Who shall have Diarmuid Ua Duibhne as king? Who shall have him? !"

Not a second later Diarmuid heard a man in the background, shouting, "I shall!" And then another followed him, "I shall!" And then there was a woman. "I shall!" Before long the thousands of citizens surrounding them were all chanting and shouting in unison and it was on behalf of Diarmuid.

The lancer looked faint with astonishment. His jaw loosened and he looked at every man, woman, and child who shouted at him, for him, for something he had never known belonged in their hearts. When he turned back toward the king, Cormac had broadened his shoulders and pointed toward the people. "Was this your earnest goal, Diarmuid, when you arrived here on my isle? To steal my crown and kingdom? !"

"No," Diarmuid answered honestly, shaking his head. "I will not fight you for this. I do not wish to replace you."

"But it seems my people do!" King Cormac said as he charged and lunged his sword forward, a strike that Diarmuid had dodged. "So I must slay the devil who deceived their hearts! Who ordered you to take away my kingdom? Was it she? Was it that whore of a girl not fit to rule? !"

The insults Diarmuid could take but when he spoke of Queen Altria like that his soul was set ablaze and he found himself moving quicker, so quick that he had reached down and grabbed his fallen crimson spear before turning and blocking King Cormac's blade with both spears crisscrossed against each other. When he pushed his shoulder blades apart he used his muscles to push King Cormac back with the force. The older man had stumbled backward, his heavy sword nearly dropping out of his grasp.

Diarmuid saw his opportunity and took his stance on the offensive. Pressing forward and onward he pushed the king back with strike after strike, showing the man his own strength.

"Say what you will about me and my sins!" Diarmuid said between strikes as the king about fell backwards from the loss of footing. "But never, NEVER speak about my queen like that! You've never known her! Never met her! Never dined with her! Never laughed with her! Never mourned with her! Banished I may be but my soul is still tied to hers and thus I shall defend her to my dying breath!"

King Cormac had managed to dodge a strike and moved to the left, holding his sword now with two hands to make the strikes harder and closer. Diarmuid just started at him with dark eyes and shook his head. "You'll never even compare to her rule, you foolish king! You're a shame to your forefathers, to this land, this isle and its people! You no longer deserve that title."

"This title is mine until the day that I die!" King Cormac cried out as he charged Diarmuid.

Just when Diarmuid readied himself for the strike the man surprised him and let go of the sword with his left hand. Reaching out he grabbed at Diarmuid's raven locks and clung tightly while his weight fell upon Diarmuid and both lost their footing. And then they fell to the ground, the king's blade cutting into both as it had been pressed between the two.

Lady Gráinne had been the first to cry out and the first to run to the motionless bodies upon the muddy ground. Right behind her were the knights and just behind them were the people. The knights had to pull the princess away to take up King Cormac and look to see that he had landed upon his own sword in his attempt to get Diarmuid to take it into his own gut. But with wails the people around saw that Diarmuid had received it as well.

With careful hands, Fionn had taken the sword from the two and watched as their wounds opened. All saw with their naked eyes on whose was the worst. King Cormac coughed out blood and looked down to see his own innards slipping out of him. Below him was the man he had tried to kill, the man who had saved his people.

Diarmuid's own gash was against his ribs and while it had uncovered the whiteness of his bones and a pink lung did try to slip out, he had not been cut in such a dangerous spot. King Cormac knew this and watched as Diarmuid was pulled out from under him and rested in the arms of the people, his people. As they clung to the man he watched Diarmuid's exhaustion and wounds finally get the better of him, in his eyes were the scene of losing consciousness.

_Were you the better man, Diarmuid?_ The King had wanted to speak these things, but the blood would not stop coming up his throat and falling out of his mouth. It was hard to breathe_. Have they really chosen one of no royal blood than one born of the kings of this land? I guess we will see if I see you in Hell. _Cormac wanted to laugh but only cried out in pain as he was lain in the lap of his weeping red-faced daughter. He didn't want to see her face, he wanted to look at that oh-so-noble hero of the people's, Diarmuid. He wanted to watch him fade into the afterlife, but he knew better. He knew the boy would be fine.

_If that's how it is, then you'd best take care of them . . . each and every one of them._ King Cormac, surprising everyone had risen straight up and threw his weight forward where he had nearly fallen on top of Diarmuid. The people around had screamed, probably fearing he was still trying to kill the man and so Cormac felt their hands upon him, trying to push him back off of their beloved guardian. But instead King Cormac took hold of Diarmuid's wrist and watched as the last rays of consciousness slowly faded from the man's golden eyes as he looked at him with no fear, nor anger at all.

"S-Swear to me, Diar-muid," Cormac said, taking his words slow when he felt he would vomit the rest of his insides up onto Diarmuid's chest that instant. "Pro-Protect the-m. Make this land, this king-dom grea-t once-once more. Swear-Swear to me-e."

King Cormac had lived just long enough to watch the man go limp, but he had felt a small squeeze from Diarmuid's left hand and so the king as well faded, knowing he could leave the kingdom and possibly not hate his early departure too much.

The new King was strong.


	9. The Beginning of a Threatening Reign

With the people united and strong the land seemed to reflect the spirit of its inhabitants. The harvest had been more than bountiful and the catch along the shores more than enough to feed even the less fortunate. It had been a grand time and the echoes of the raids before were but a distant memory. No, there was merriment in the air, the churches rung their bells with service and weddings. More children were being born and disease but a thing of the past.

This new era for the kingdom ushered in the long road that the new king had created. Much of the island's youth returned had been said to have been caused by the king himself. Parents of young ones would say that the king had reached down into the depths of Hell and freed their missing guardian Angels held captive by the Devil himself in the times no young one would know now thanks to the peace and prosperity of the land.

It was a good time to eat and drink and be merry, a good time to paint portraits, to sing songs, and to write poems. The unity of the people brought in so much trade amongst themselves that the recent debt had vanished. Even the treasures from the five ships crashed against a certain shore-town remained untouched and so forth unvalued.

So it was no wonder that the King's castle and the city surrounding had been packed full of the people of the land, both young and old, coast and inland had traveled to the royal place to watch the coronation. It had been a magnificent sight and a long awaited one at that.

The new king had been wounded in his fight for the throne and because of that his body weakened and he remained bedridden for months from the sheer exhaustion he took on. But it did not matter to the country; the people had kept ships at bay and thusly became isolated in this time of recovery. Noble and peasant alike stood arm in arm and awaited for the health to return to the young nobility. Men and women stood next to the knights in the guarding of the land and in those times there were no quarrels—between sibling, rival, nor beast.

It had been a strange time but the signs only pointed toward a new era and so the times changed and the people marked their days to the beginning. So hopeful and bright were the days of their waiting that life seemed to not only pick up where they had left it, but a jump forward into the future had happened and suddenly there were no more tears or deaths.

Only one funeral took place in those months of waiting—that of the late king, King Cormac mac Airt. Even though bedridden the successing king had been present at the burial and did show himself to mourn and led the people to mourn as well in respect that the reign God above had graced the past king with. The lady, King Cormac's daughter, Gráinne had been so touched by the show of respect for her father's burial that she graced all those who attended with gifts of thanks, no matter the number.

Even so, the crowning had taken in a much larger crowd than King Cormac's burial or any other king's coronation ever had. It seemed the entire land had arrived to see the crowning. Close to a million stood and watched, the numbers might have been even greater than that and because of so the announcers had to spread themselves because of the people spilling out of the city gates.

Masses upon masses of men and their wives and children had taken to standing and looking at the city, at the castle with its towers rising high and upon the highest one, one might think they could see him, the new king as the crown was passed on to him, but so far away none could really tell. Still, just listening to the announcers calling at the hours and exclaiming what was taking place that instant was reassurance enough so that none in all the land might be left out and forget that day.

That day a king's reign had ended prematurely (or in due time as appointed by God Himself as some would say) and a new king rose to power who had been appointed by the people themselves and no doubt would be loved until they laid his head in the ground.

"Lady Gráinne," Diarmuid said as he reached out and took hold of the brunette's wrist as she moved away from him after fixing the traditional coat and chain placed upon him. "Please, stay with me."

Princess Gráinne was still mourning the sudden loss of her father, anyone could see that, but she did not hate her friend for taking his place. In fact she was more so proud of Diarmuid than ever she had been before. She could see his nervousness, anyone near could but he was good at covering it up before the people.

With a smile she pulled her hand from his grip and reached out and patted his cheek. "Do not be afraid, this is tradition, Diarmuid, you shan't have to do much but sit still."

"Sorry," Diarmuid apologized. "But that old farmer refused to come today, or any day for that matter to stand by my side. Said this place isn't to his liking."

"He can be like that," Gráinne said, a chuckle in her tone. "I'm sure he's happy though and listening to the announcers by the hour."

"I'll make sure to give him a visit after his," Diarmuid said, holding up his fist. "And knock some sense into him for abandoning his king like this."

"Ah, that's not your official title yet until two more hours," Gráinne said with a slow wink.

Diarmuid chuckled before setting his hands in his lap and letting his twitching fingers play with one another. "Don't remind me."

"Do you think the people chose wrong?" Gráinne asked, her eyes darting toward the knights standing beside Diarmuid, especially that of her husband, Fionn, who watched the two closely.

"The people never can, but I, myself, am unsure how to rule as a ruler," Diarmuid admitted and watched as his long time childhood friend slumped her shoulders and giggled.

"The same way you ruled their hearts earlier, Diarmuid. With words of guidance and strong hands to protect."

Did that sound familiar.

Diarmuid was brought back in a time when he was so young, standing next to an even younger girl who looked like she could barely hold up her father's large sword, but she did. Before her entire royal court she held up that grand blade and proclaimed her rule and he had felt so proud of her as her first and only knight at the time. He knew she'd become great and mark a place for herself in history.

Diarmuid had been content with the thought of that, even though his own mark in history would be that of a simple knight of the great Queen Altria, the first successful female ruler that ruled greater than any other man ever had.

What now? Did he have to strive to make his own mark in history? A king, he was going to be a king. Not just any king, but king over the land of his birth, a great kingdom that was now being laid out before him with keys to every city and every heart alive and yet to be born.

King Cormac had been right, once a knight always a knight. Could an ex-knight really come to understand the mind of a ruler? This is what frightened Diarmuid the most: that he would not be a good ruler. He had no choice but to accept the crown because the people cried out for him and gave it to him.

This took all his courage, rising when the court told him to rise and stand before the endless mass of people standing before him, down into the castle courtyard, passed the castle gates, into the streets of the city and even beyond the city gates. Diarmuid could feel them, he could feel all their expectant hearts all yearning for him to lead and Diarmuid prayed that the Lord above give him the strength and wisdom to do so.

"God, I don't deserve this," Diarmuid whispered to himself, casting his eyes down and feeling the sting of overwhelmed tears in his eyes. The feel of Gráinne's small delicate hand in his own held those tears back and reminded him to stand tall and proud before the people and to show them that he was their king for now and to the day he died.

When the crown had been placed upon his head, oddly enough it wasn't too heavy and everyone exclaimed how perfectly it looked upon his brow. While all at once, the announcers officially proclaimed Diarmuid Ua Duibhne as the new king Diarmuid couldn't help but laugh no matter how hard he tried to stifle it.

"What is it?" Gráinne whispered next to him as they stood there upon the balcony with knight and noble, looking down at the cheering people below. "I'm sorry," Diarmuid whispered back. "But what do you think father would say if he had known this day would come?"

Suddenly Gráinne herself had laughed and Diarmuid was surprised by how loud she had been. She had caught herself and turned to apologize to the nobles and knights before her cheeks turned a vibrant red. "Forgive me," she said. "But it is most humorous."

"I know," Diarmuid said with a nod as he raised his hand and actually waved to his people and then surprised everyone by shouting, "My people! I shall serve you well!"

More cries erupted and then the after party came. Food had been dispersed throughout the entire kingdom, in towns and villages and in the smallest homes there was present of delicious treats in honor of the new king. The crops had been bounteous and so there had been plenty of food to go around.

As Diarmuid made his way into the dining hall, Gráinne had pulled him away from his guard for a moment to fix his coat. "I know," she said as she fixed the golden chain holding it upon his shoulders. "Father even hated this thing because it slips, but what can a king do?"

Suddenly Gráinne watched as Diarmuid pushed her hands away and unclipped the chain, swinging the coat off in an unkingly fashion. "How about he take it off?" Diarmuid suggested with a playful wink before the girl blushed and turned her face away.

"You would do that, Diarmuid," she muttered as she crossed her arms.

"Why not?" Diarmuid asked. The lady now watched with astonishment as he even took off the golden crown from his head. "This is how the people first saw me, and this is how they chose me as their king. I should think they won't mind me missing the traditional outfit."

Gráinne simply smiled and reached up to push stray strands of hair out of Diarmuid's handsome face. "A much nicer hair cut the royal barbers have given you. Your locks before had become unruly. But this strand!"

Diarmuid chuckled as he watched the woman attempt to pull a tusk of hair back with the rest of his hair but it had not moved. He took a hold of her hand and said, "Just leave it. It's befitting, is it not?"

"My liege." Diarmuid turned and watched his guard motion him toward the banquet. He nodded and then walked toward the table about to take a seat when his guard quickly took hold of his arm. "My king! Your seat is over there." They pointed toward the head of the table where one of Diarmuid's many thrones lay.

"Yep, never going to get used to this any time soon," Diarmuid muttered to himself and caused a fun laughter as he marched over toward the chair and took a seat.

After that night the man had never been so exhausted. He felt as if he had when he fought that entire army on his own and so he rested and let the kingdom have their fill in celebration. Once everything quieted down once more then Diarmuid swore to himself that he'd approach the people on their isolation.

He hadn't thought they would like it nor that the people would pull together like this for him and repair their kingdom themselves. Now, because of this, their shores were barren and their ships left to rot. Diarmuid wondered now how his friends would be able to sail here and inform him on all he's missed. He worried about them and about Altria and his son.

The people, _his_ people, his _subjects_ were happy being like this; on their own and Diarmuid couldn't help but feel it was a good thing. This isle needed the time to itself to heal properly and grow. He had promised King Cormac that he would return this kingdom to its former glory and no matter how hard it hurt his heart he knew that it was indeed best to keep the docks barren and allow no ship enter or depart.

He trusted his brothers in arms to keep his queen and child safe and he knew that Altria could protect herself as well and so he had spoken with the people and had agreed to follow to their wishes and officially isolated the isle as his first act as king.

Diarmuid signed a treaty saying that if any should dock here that they be warned and sent off and that if they returned a second time then he gave his naval ships the right to destroy them. The decree also ordered none to take up ship and leave either, but there had been no foreigner during the year of the raid, they had all fled from whence they came and so no one but native lives lived on the isle and were content with just this land.

"Forgive me, Altria," Diarmuid whispered to the wind as he stood out upon the balcony, looking out across the land—his land. "But wait a little longer and raise Erin well. This land still needs to heal completely before we may see each other again."

And Diarmuid did plan to see Altria again. No longer was he a banished guard. He was a King now with no more ties to a ruler of his own or the notion of banishment.

* * *

"I don't like Erin's birthday!" little Igraine had complained while her mother wrapped her in warm furs as they readied themselves for the horse-drawn sleigh waiting for them outside.

Altria just smiled at her daughter. "Hold still, Igraine, I don't want to clip you with the pin again."

Her daughter listened and once she was finished the little blonde pulled the cloak closer around herself. "It's always so cold," she whined. "My birthday is nice and warm and I don't mind going outside. Do we have to go outside today?"

"Why yes," Altria said as she fixed her daughter's braided hair. "We're going out into the hills to celebrate his birthday. I invited the guard and their families."

"But it's cold!" Igraine continued to complain. Altria sighed and watched Gawain enter the room in the midst of her daughter's complaint with a wet-nurse and little Erin in tow.

"The birthday boy has arrived," Gawain announced, taking the boy from the nurse and handing him over to his mother.

"Mama!" Erin squealed while pulling at the loose strands of his mother's hairs. Altria took hold of his fingers and pulled them away before kissing him on the mouth. "How's my love today? Happy?"

"Ya!" the little child squealed out with a round nod that everyone found adorable, even his big sister.

"Guess what today is, Erin," Altria said, watching the little boy mess with the ties to his own cloak wrapped around him. "Is it your birthday, hm?" The boy seemed too focused in his task at unclipping the cloak and when he actually managed just that, Altria then set the boy down and had him stand still as she took hold of the cloak fixed it back on the child. "Erin," she said, getting his green eyes on her. "Is it your birthday?"

The guard laughed when they watched the little prince shrug his shoulders. Altria narrowed her eyes and let out a sigh. Standing back up straight she placed her hands on her hips and said, "Yes it is, Erin and we're going to go out and have some fun."

"Ya!" the little boy raised his arms and grinned big before turning and running into his sister.

"Erin, you almost knocked me over," Igraine complained before she moved a little away from the boy who insisted on following her around.

"Well," Altria said with a sigh as she flattened out her cloak against her and looked toward Gawain and the rest of her guard. "Shall we be off?"

Letting her children walk in the snow took a little longer to get to the sleigh but Altria nor her guards minded.

"Come on, Erin. You can do it," Altria said with a smile as she held her son's hand high above his head, letting him use her hand to hold onto and pull at so that he may hop over the large mounds of snow. His short legs were just too small to do on his own. Igraine had already struggled on her own and hopped into the sleigh where Gawain awaited them and brought the girl to his side.

"You cold?" The guard had asked.

The princess simply nodded her head and cuddled into the guard's warm cloak. "It's too cold. I want spring!"

"I'm sorry, my dear, but we are already deep into winter, spring won't come for some time," Gawain informed much to the little princess' dismay. Igraine needed to know she couldn't fight the seasons and let out a sigh and remained defeated and limp next to Gawain. Just as he laughed at her show of disapproval for the weather he watched Altria help little Erin into the sleigh. The little boy had struggled so much to get there that he had worked up a heat and looked about ready to jump back into the snow.

"Sit down," Erin's mother bade as she seated herself too and rolled her eyes toward Gawain. "What a journey we had."

"Well, the both of you made it here safe and sound, that calls for some praise," Gawain said, crossing his arms. "It's because of you Erin and Igraine can walk so well—making them go up and down staircases, over logs, mounds of snow, the list goes on."

"It's good for them," Altria said as the sleigh began moving and they rode out of the castle and city to the white hills beyond. "If they can learn early on how to stand then no one shall push them to the ground."

"Is that how you were raised?" Gawain asked.

"No, I wasn't," Altria admitted.

"Good," Gawain stated. "Then that means you're an original mother." Altria blushed and waved the man off before enjoying their silent ride, well, mostly silent. Little Erin had been too excited and so wouldn't sit still in his seat. When his mother seated him in her lap he complained and demanded to be let go, but Altria was strong and had no problem paddling his little behind in front of Gawain and Igraine if she had to.

"What a handful, that one," Gawain noted as he watched Erin try and try to get out of his mother's lap. "I'll bet you my entire purse that he gets that from his father."

Altria nodded and agreed. "It's when he's like this that I doubt my ways of motherhood."

"He's just a boy." Gawain and Altria turned to see Igraine glaring at her brother's behavior. "My friends say that little boys act like that and that girls are liken to Angels." Altria and Gawain chuckled and then looked back to Erin who about looked ready to cry from his failed attempt to escape his mother's embrace.

"It all varies, Princess Igraine," Gawain stated but the girl continued to stick to her belief.

So it was safe to say the sleigh ride had been fun and when they arrived to the country house of Lancelot, Altria and Gawain noted the other sleighs. "Well," Gawain began. "It looks like we may be the last ones to arrive."

"It's all Erin's fault!" Igraine exclaimed as she ran past the two and toward the doors to the house. "He's too slow!"

"I wonder if I would have been like that if I had a younger brother—or sister for that matter," Altria wondered aloud with a sigh as she set her boy down and let him walk. "Come on, Erin, let's make it to the door."

Gawain hadn't minded waiting for his queen and her son. It took them longer than to reach the sleigh before but when they came to the door, Lady Elaine was there with her son who was quick to pick Erin up.

"Erin!" Galahad exclaimed with a smile. "Let's go next to the fireplace and warm ourselves." Erin simply struggled in the young boy's embrace just like he had with his mother.

"Down," he said and Galahad heeded him saying, "Yes, my prince." Altria chuckled and looked at Elaine. The woman only whispered to her saying, "He's only like this when you're around. There are no formalities when the little ones are visiting absent their mother."

"Ah, I see," Altria said with a chuckle before she was ushered inside with Gawain.

Inside the home the fires were roaring and the children around, those close to infants and those close to adulthood, were running around and socializing themselves amongst one another. Altria looked to see her daughter mingling herself in with her friends, the young girls her age while her son had seated himself next to the fireplace where Galahad had given him plenty of toys to play with, ensuring to attract other little boys their age to play along.

"Quite a cold winter," Elaine noted as she took her queen's cloak and hung it near the fireplace along with the rest to dry.

Altria smiled and nodded. "It is," she said, rubbing her arms and then entering into the dining hall to watch the wives of the guards prepare the table. "Where are your servants, Elaine?" Altria asked, knowing no noble woman had to perform tasks if the servants were near.

Lancelot's wife only smiled and took up dish with the rest of the women. "It's a tradition at our home that we let the servants have a day of rest and we decided that it should be this day when our home offered the celebrate Prince Erin's day of birth. It's of no trouble and the ladies don't mind the tasks."

"Then I should offer my help," Altria bade as she took up the goblets.

"No," Elaine said, stopping her queen. "We have everything in order here but why don't you go into the kitchen and find if they are about ready with the food."

Altria nodded and did so and smiled when she found many of her men inside the room, all working on the food. Surprised she crept up to the lord of the house and watched him silently for a moment as he dressed the roasted goose.

"I did not know you could cook, Lancelot." Altria smiled as the man darted around with baster in hand. She couldn't help but giggle, especially at the loose apron about him, thrown over his fine clothing. It was quite a comical sight.

"My lady, I had not known you arrived yet," Lancelot said as he untied his apron and then bowed before her in his noble attire. "I had thought they would have announced your arrival."

"Lady Elaine just wanted me catch you in the role of a servant cook," Altria said with a giggle in her tone.

"Well, it is tradition in this home," Lancelot informed before turning and grabbing a few clothes to pick up the hot platter. "But dinner is ready so you may seat yourself and wait if you wish."

"I've come to help," Altria said as she picked up a bowl full of greens and smiled at her knight.

After the table had been set and everyone called in to dine, they prayed and did eat and fellowship. After which the activities ventured out into the courtyard. There were torches alight to provide some warmth and many sleighs drawn with horses for the children to enjoy should they wish to take a small ride. When the presents had been displayed before the young prince, a bonfire had been constructed in the large pit outside and so they sat around and watched as the boy sat upon his mother's lap and accepted the presents with eagerness.

"What do you say, Erin?" Altria asked as her son nodded to the family who had just given him five presents, two from the parents, and three from the sons. "Thanks you for the gifts." Altria chuckled and then let out a sigh before she set the boy down. "Alright, now you go see if anyone wishes to play with you."

And he was off; running toward the other little boys his age and bidding him come and play with his new presents. He was growing up well and hoped that his father would see the same. Leaning back in her chair and wrapping herself in her cloak she watched as a Lady Elaine came to sit next to her.

"It's hard to believe that child is already three years of age," Elaine said with a sigh as she watched the little raven-haired boy run around with the other young children his age. Altria nodded and sighed herself. "Where has to time gone?"

As the two mothers sat and watched the children play in silence, it had been Elaine's giggle that broke Altria out of her stare. She turned her eyes upon the woman and raised a brow. Elaine simply waved her away and shook her head. "I am sorry," she said between giggles. "But little Erin does so many things that remind me of Sir Diarmuid. That, right there, did you see how he walked up to that little girl? I often wonder how you can manage having Erin near you and it not break your heart at the memories of his father."

"It is hard," Altria stated, she had admitted it long ago and so the ache that came with the confession wasn't as great as before. Her soul, heart, and mind had grown used to the disappointment and logic weighed that there was nothing she could do about it. "When I watch Erin sleep, listen to him laugh, observe the way he walks, I can't stop thinking about his father. I miss him, I miss his smiles, his embrace, his attractive accent . . . I miss everything, I am _missing_ everything."

Elaine frowned and then scooted closer to her lady and placed her cold hands upon her Queen's gloved ones. "How transpires the trading?"

"Nothing," Altria said. "It's quite upset the people of this land; even the king realizes that the trades had helped this kingdom. No, it has not hurt us much, but not knowing what has happened to Diarmuid had hurt me and without our neighbor giving us a reason as to why they've isolated the isle baffles even the greatest thinkers."

There was a short pause before Altria continued. "To make matters worse it doesn't appear they wish to come out of isolation any time soon. Already King Gilgamesh has lost six war ships."

"Six?" Elaine asked, her eyes wide. "Lancelot informed me that the king was upset but on what matters he hadn't said. I cannot believe six were destroyed. How? When did their naval army return?"

Altria just sighed. "I do not know, but whatever the reason they still will not let us visit the isle."

"Any foreigner, or is it just us?" Elaine asked.

"Any," Altria informed.

"That is strange," Elaine admitted with a nod. "What will you do, my queen?" When Altria's green eyes fell upon the curious woman she watched Elaine's brow tighten. "If they should remain isolated forever? Would you really leave Diarmuid without a word?"

Another silence plagued Altria as she thought about this. Though that question had haunted her for months after the birthday. Often she would try to answer it, but when she assumed she had she came to the wrong conclusions one more.

In times of her confusion Altria found herself sitting in the nursery and watching her two children play. When she looked toward her daughter she saw how much older she was becoming, so lanky as well. Nothing but skin and bones now. She was very much taking after her mother.

Now, as she looked at Erin she noticed how plump the child still was. Already three and a half years old and he was still just as round as the day he was born. Just the sight of him tugged Altria's heart. He was indeed a handsome child and everyone always commented on his features. She knew that Diarmuid had no doubt been just as attractive a child as their son.

Why he would have loved a plain woman like herself was beyond reason. She had been just like little Igraine; a scrawny child who grew into a scrawny woman. Not Diarmuid though, she had heard tales of how he had been chased since the day of his birth by suitors and one particular story where his father had to dress him as a maid so to hide him from the women of the land seeking his hand in marriage . . . of course Altria wasn't too sure on how true that story was but it brought about laughter and so often told in honor or jest of Diarmuid.

Altria admitted she felt an attraction to the man when he had came before her and challenged her skill in battle. But that attraction had turned into honor and a bond was created as to a brother and sister. Altria had felt nothing when Diarmuid had caught the eye of every lady in her kingdom, nor even when he became a notorious womanizer. She had felt he would sooner or later.

His sudden confession had surprised Altria and she hadn't known it would awaken feelings within her that she hadn't known she carried for the man. At first she felt she would remain confused and let her feelings gradually come out about the situation but before she had known it she was sharing the same bed as Diarmuid and both had unexpectedly fallen in love. After which Altria knew her heart would have broken in two had Diarmuid returned to his womanizing ways but he had no longer looked upon another woman again.

Because of that, Altria knew his heart was still hers. Even though she had not heard from him in years, she had given up on her false fears of the man finding another woman and settling down to start a family of his own. It was selfish of Altria to think of this, being that she herself was a married woman and therefore unfair to Diarmuid for her to keep a hold upon him, but she knew he didn't mind.

Queen Altria still loved Diarmuid Ua Duibhne and she knew he still loved her.

That's not to say she longed to hear of him. The isle he had fled to after banishment now had isolated itself from the world and it would not leave no ship leave its lands nor any ship dock upon its shores. What was she to do now?

Simple; she was to raise their son as she promised Diarmuid. She hoped that sometime in the future the island would open its arms to the world once again. But as of now, she was in no position to force them and so let the isle and the subject on it be.

* * *

"Ye know it's not rightly place fer a king to be workin' the fields like some slave."

"Shut up, old man," Diarmuid said as he pushed to last bale of hay onto the cart and then wiped his brow with his forearm and looked at a good day done. "I gave you servants, why you chose to dismiss them is beyond me."

"I don't need no royal servants workin my fields!" the old farmer complained, almost choking on his pipe as he exclaimed these words.

"They're not royal if it's from a friend," Diarmuid said, narrowing his eyes in a scolding manner at the man.

The old farmer only crossed his arms with a puff of hot air. Diarmuid chuckled before he took hold of the cart and began pushing it back to the barn with the old man walking slowly next to him. Lately the farmer had took to sitting most of the time, but he had liked to get out though his old legs were worn and it took him longer to get to anywhere, but Diarmuid didn't mind slowing his pace to let the man walk beside him.

"The harvest's been bountiful this year, just like the last," the farmer said while he turned and looked at his heavy laden lands full of fruit and vegetable and grain. "That calls for extra work ye know!" Diarmuid laughed at the man's comment before the old man bit the butt of his pipe and inhaled a whiff of smoke. "But that be alright. The land's just praising its new king with its fertility is all."

Diarmuid smiled when the old man turned to him with a wide toothless grin. Though the young king had glanced his guard around the fields he supposed it was the daily necessaries of the royal life. At first it had become a nuisance and an insult to his own strength, but the men were just doing their jobs.

But Diarmuid was still king and would therefore do as he pleased. If he wanted to travel south to some peasant's farm to work on the fields during harvest then he could well do as he pleased. After all, if the royal court didn't like his decision . . . he was still the strongest warrior in the land.

"I'm glad," Diarmuid began after he finished loading the barn and turned back toward the old farmer who had seated himself in his rocking chair. "That this land's been so prosperous, especially in the early years of my reign."

Taking a seat on the porch next to the chair Diarmuid had wrapped a cloak around his bare torso and watched the sun set with the old man, ignoring the guards pacing around the shabby wooden fences near the house. In silence the two sat and Diarmuid felt content with the cool night's air, it felt good on his skin after slaving away in the hot sun to get a job done the old farmer could have had his appointed servants do.

"I like my life as a peasant," the old man would say. "Giving me so many servants to tend my farm that I can't even count makes me feel like I be another person," he would also said. So he would again say, "I like my life as a peasant."

What was King Diarmuid to do but give up and let the old man have his way? Of course that didn't mean he couldn't visit and annoy him with his presence and jests. Still, that old man was quite tolerant.

"You've been doing good, Diarmuid," the old man said as they watched the moon rise to full in the sky. Diarmuid smirked and then jabbed the man in the arm with his finger. "It's King Diarmuid now. You can get into serious trouble forgetting that formality."

The farmer simply shook his head and said, "Bah, You don't like me callin' ye that so I won't."

"Fair enough," Diarmuid admitted with a nod. "Hate to say, even though I've been king for a few years I still am not used to it."

"Ye are an odd one, Diarmuid. Ye accept the people's choice to become ruler but still yet act as if ye haven't been seated on the throne for a few years."

"I've been a servant all my life, swearing myself to another came natural," Diarmuid admitted with a shrug. "I am just not used to others swearing themselves to me."

"Would ye revert if given the opportunity?" The old farmer asked as his dark eyes turned toward Diarmuid who only leaned back more and sighed, his eyes looking as if they were counting each and every star appearing up in the clear night sky.

"I had thought," Diarmuid started, "That my road to glory had faded. That God Himself had abandoned me. Because of my past sins I felt unworthy of any kind of happiness. But you and the people had helped my spirit back from the grave and now I cannot see my life changing any different than what it has come to now."

"The road to growth is a long and painful one," the farmer said. "One never knows what road God would lead them down. Usually ye never knows which one is the final one until yer deathbed. I am glad God has shown ye yer final road."

"You really think it's my final road?" Diarmuid asked.

"Well, do ye see yeself running to another land far 'way and becoming king?"

Diarmuid laughed and then nodded in agreement. "You have a point."

"Are ye content, Diarmuid?"

Diarmuid's golden eyes turned toward the farmer once more and had once sparkled softly with the ease of the land, but now they darkened and a frown appeared on his face. What was he to tell his people when he, their king, was not content? Any king would be content to the day they died if they could rule a kingdom like this but it wasn't the longing for war or enemies to slay that had the warrior in discontent. But he just hadn't had the heart to tell his people.

So he kept his smiles bright and his schedule busy with getting to know his people and the happenings of their daily lives, hardly spending time in his castle was what he wanted. The place wasn't so much a home to him as was the rickety old barn the farmer provided him. That's not to say he never spent his nights at the castle, no the life of a king often called him to his castle where the royal court would present to him the statements of parliament and all that belongs to the wisdom of the king. It wasn't an easy job, and he often wondered how Altria had done it—especially since she had been a girl.

Through this experience he came to appreciate that woman more. She had been wise beyond her years and he had been right to follow her and to swear his services to her.

So, often times Diarmuid would dissuade himself from that question even though the old man brought it up whenever he visited. Diarmuid didn't find it too wrong with leaving unanswered questions, just as long as they were not hindering anyone or anything.

Content? No, he was not content and for the reason he wished to remain silent. By the grace of God above he had been given a kingdom and a people once foreign now loved him. They were a good, proud, Godfearing people and Diarmuid hadn't wished to upset the peace because of God's wrath upon him.

He was not content because he wanted to go against the people's wish and take the isle out of isolation even though it was good for the kingdom to remain so. He was not content because he wanted to hear of Altria and his son. He was not content because he wanted to hold his son and the mother of him.

He was not content because he still longed for the touch of a married woman.

The isolation had not brought in any news nor out. Even though Diarmuid's heart had hoped the damn foreign king choke on his own wine and set his wife free to wed another he knew that the man still prospered what with the war ships often seen coasting their shores. Though this did give a reason to get the people to agree to another building of an armada and because their spirits were awakened and on fire, they already had 150 ships.

There were many things happening in recent years that's made many a man, woman, and child content. In a sense their king was as well. Seeing his kingdom so united and risen once more brought pride to his heart, but the longing in his heart could not be ignored.

Often times Diarmuid would find himself awake when his body was so tired. His knights and guards would see him wandering throughout the halls of the castle, hoping to lose himself in its maze. Sometimes it would last for days before he just collapsed of exhaustion.

In this time of peace and prosperity, nothing much more was the king acquired to do and so he often found himself in his thoughts and those thoughts of Altria. Her golden hair, emerald eyes, the way she looked in the royal blue gown he had bought her. Her every beauty entered back into Diarmuid's mind and he suddenly felt dirty again.

_No!_ He would mentally attack himself. _God must have forgiven my sins. Why else would he have given me this kingdom? Or a people who love me? This isolation is for the best. It keeps my sins at bay. _But not the sins of his heart.

Diarmuid had been a womanizer when he reached his adult years and he knew how all the ladies of the land wished to share his bed. He took pride in how God had blessed his birth with a handsome face and a lean body. After his affections for Altria developed into sexual desire he was drawn away from the taverns and towns where his maidens would wait for him and found himself focused solely upon his queen.

She had fulfilled every desire he was used to being filled by the other women, but she was different because she had filled his heart as well. With her gone from him, he was cold and heartbroken. He did have many chances from the other girls in his kingdom who wished to show gratitude and warm his bed. It wasn't unknown that Diarmuid was single and baron of wife.

No matter how many times he pushed the women away though, his body was still that of a man and still yearned for the touch of a woman. Though he had been trained to the touch of his queen oddly enough and when a woman touched him, be it gently or seductively, he could not shake the feeling of the satisfaction in his bones.

When he had returned from visiting the old farmer he had arrived at the castle late in the night and looked forward to a warm soft bed easing him into slumber but as his captain knight, Fionn, opened the door for him and ushered him into his chambers Diarmuid stopped and stared at the four women laying upon his bed, all exposing breasts and bareness to him.

"Fionn, what is the meaning of this?" Diarmuid asked, finding it hard to pry his eyes from the women all so beautiful and round as he turned to his knight.

"It's a gift," Fionn stated. "The royal court saw that the king had not been sleeping well and assumed that a lady would find it easy to press you into slumber. You have yet to take any wife nor mistresses for that matter."

"For a rightly reason," Diarmuid muttered before looking at the expectant women. Fionn simply sighed, everyone on the isle knew of the reason for Diarmuid's return: he had been banished because of an affair he partook with the queen he had once sworn himself to. Affairs of course were always of wrongly reasons and nothing but lusty feelings emitted from such relationships and so most hadn't thought the man still dwelt upon the woman. Most simply took him as being a man and wanting a woman in his bed and so the royal court took beautiful woman whom had volunteered themselves to fill the king's bed.

Of course the list was indeed endless as many a woman had seen the face of their king and since he was young as well they had wished to touch the man and to be touched back. But Diarmuid's body could not forget the touch of his queen or the warmth of her body. He could not forget the way she sounded when she laughed with glee or the arousal his body shivered with when she moaned his name. Her fragrance, feel of spirit, words of wisdom; he couldn't forget.

So with a shake of his head, Diarmuid turned. "I cannot take these women. Send my regards to the court, but I don't want this to happen again."

Fionn took a hold of Diarmuid's arm and held him still. "King you may be, but you are a man as well. What man does not seek the warmth of a woman?"

"Not these women," Diarmuid replied but Fionn would have none of that.

"You are stressing yourself, Diarmuid," the captain whispered and brought him close. "There is no more war, no more tensions in this land and yet you would make problems for yourself. If you suffer then the people do as well."

"My past sins will offer by body no rest," Diarmuid said as he pulled his arm out of the knight's grasp. "I shan't expect you or the people to understand. I don't want you to understand. Just be happy, for me."

So the king took to bed in a room down the hall, though his night was restless. His mind had conjured dreams liken to the images of the women he had seen sprawled out upon his bed. In his dreams he was with Altria, sometimes in that nursery room, sometimes in another room, sometimes at an inn, sometimes at the spring. But there she was in his dreams, her arms stretched out to him, inviting him to lay above her.

But this time she had pressed him down and straddled his hips, her soft hand petting his cheek and then his jaw. He had forgotten how much he loved it when Altria was above him, squeezing him with her thighs and kissing him from above. Of course as any man would say they did enjoy being above a woman, but when Altria took control, Diarmuid had no quarrels with submitting to his queen.

The kiss on his neck had felt so real that Diarmuid had reached out and embraced the girl, pulling her close. He heard her gasp out and he sighed. When her hands began to loosen the ties of his pants Diarmuid's reasoning returned. Suddenly he was fading from his dream and when Altria kissed him hard Diarmuid had found his eyes to close and then open.

In utter shock he had found that his dream reenacted reality. A young woman had been seated upon him in his bed and held him down while she kissed him deep and hard. Of course she only received teeth from the man while Diarmuid let the girl go and forcefully pushed her away.

"Gráinne? !" Diarmuid hadn't known what to think and as his mouth lay agape the lady leant forward once more and kissed him hard. Diarmuid once again pushed the woman back and nearly fell out of his bed because of how far he backed away from her. "What are you doing? You are a married woman!"

"That never stopped you before!" Gráinne protested as she once again threw herself onto Diarmuid and this time she had succeeded in knocking the both of them to the floor, sheets tangling all about them, making it hard for Diarmuid to get away from the woman.

Honestly anyone would want to retort that remark, but the lady was right. Diarmuid could not defend himself from that but he hadn't wanted the woman to force herself upon him, especially his childhood friend.

"No, Gráinne, stop this at once!" Diarmuid demanded as he managed to untangle himself and stand to his feet. He had never seen her like this before. She stood up once more and pressed herself against him, her night gown was practically transparent and the way she pressed her round breasts against him caused Diarmuid to shutter. He had to take hold of her shoulders and hold her from a distance to quell the girl's fire.

"You're king, Diarmuid!" Gráinne about shouted, tears in her eyes from how desperate she had become. "You can have an affair before God and not be condemned to Hell! You can love another woman and not have to fear from her husband because you reign higher than he."

"No matter what, it's not right, Gráinne," Diarmuid said, shaking his head and trying to make the girl see. "Don't you know the torture I've been put through for the means of my own sin? Do you wish it upon me again? !" Diarmuid had raised his voice and startled the girl. Suddenly she began to cry and Diarmuid watched as she crouched in on herself.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I am so sorry, Diarmuid, my friend, my king!" Diarmuid hadn't known how to react but slowly he knelt down and touched the girl. Upon the touch she fell into him and wept against his shoulder. She had cried and cried until she could not cry any longer. When that time came she pulled herself away from the king and stood up, fixing her tussled gown.

"You can forget this night if you wish," Gráinne said quietly before she turned to leave, but Diarmuid caught her wrist and had her turn to him. "Why?" he asked. "Why have you done this?"

"Can you not tell?" Gráinne asked. The unhappiness in the lady's eyes hurt Diarmuid but what else could he do?

"I'm sorry, Gráinne," he whispered, casting his eyes down. "But I can't. You can't."

With a small sigh the brunette pulled out a bittersweet smile and did her best to smile at her king. "You're a beautiful man, Diarmuid. I'm sure you know that. And you're the kindest spirited person on this isle. My husband isn't so considerate."

"Has he harmed you?" Diarmuid asked, narrowing his eyes with a warning of s threat.

Gráinne just shook her head and looked as if she had lost all spirit. "He ignores me most of the time. So I sought out your embrace. I do wish that you would love me like you loved your queen."

"It takes a lot to get into my heart," Diarmuid replied. "I'm sorry."

"I am not that strong a woman, but I have tried," Gráinne said before pulling herself from the king and running off.

Since that night their relationship between one another became strained and Diarmuid was hurt by her avoiding of him. He had wished to settle their issue, but whenever he would approach her she would leave and when Diarmuid finally thought he had caught her she retreated to her summer home knowing the king had to remain at the castle. So he had no choice but to let her go, but the departure of his childhood friend made him all the more lonely.

Diarmuid couldn't confront Captain Fionn on the matter seeing how Gráinne had even been distant from her husband. None could blame her though; their age difference was just too far apart. It was no wonder they didn't see eye to eye. But Gráinne had always been a noble lady and always very obedient to her father and so if he had wed her to a man old enough to be her grandfather then she would stay wedded. But when she had ran to his bed and tried to seduce him, Diarmuid knew that even she had her inner turmoil and there were ones she couldn't live with.

But dealing with the feelings of a woman was not one of Diarmuid's fortés and so how to handle or approach his friend was out of the question. Even Altria had been hard to manage and her emotions had definitely been more stable. Lady Gráinne was a woman through and through and for her to act like this out of the sudden, Diarmuid, as a good friend and her king just didn't know what to do.

But still, he couldn't just leave her alone acting as if he cared nothing for her and so after letting the woman have a few months to herself he had saddled his horse and visited her before the guards had a chance to escort him. When he had made it to her home he even had a hard time getting past her ladies in waiting.

"I am sorry, my king, but the lady of the house wishes you return to your castle," they had said, ready to shut the door on him. Again, wasn't this familiar? Diarmuid simply rolled his eyes and pulled the door open himself.

"Then, as your king I command you to step aside and let me do as I please."

The maids had no choice and let the man in. When he had found Gráinne, the woman had simply been sitting near the fireplace, sewing. When he came to sit near her the girl hadn't even so much as turned her eyes toward him.

"Might I be so kind as to inquire why the king has graced my humble home?" Gráinne asked while she pushed the needle through the fabric and pulled the string attached taut. After which she placed her work upon her lap and finally looked back toward to man sitting near her.

"You have a place at the castle as well, Gráinne," Diarmuid said. "In no way do I wish your presence to disappear from me. You are the lady of the land."

"No longer I don't," Gráinne informed. "My father is dead and the title of Princess no longer subsides with me. I just wish to remain here in silence."

"I don't hate you, Gráinne," Diarmuid said as he placed his hand upon hers. "I can understand inner hurt, but being with another man will solve nothing. I don't want to be your lover, but a friend and I feel I can't be there for you as such if you continually hide your face from mine."

Gráinne just remained silent. Diarmuid then let go of the woman's hand and clasped his own together.

"Gráinne, look at me." At first she hadn't, but Diarmuid was a patient man and when the girl did turn her brown eyes upon him he could see the sadness and she looked ready to cry once more.

"Why?" she asked as she let her tears fall down her cheeks. "Why won't you just forget about me and my shame?"

"Because there is no shame in forgiveness," Diarmuid said as he took the girl into his arms. "I had never thought I would be in such a position as to give that kind of grace, but you will always have it, Gráinne."

"Thank you, my king," she said as she rubbed her watery face into his chest and wept there for a moment.

Diarmuid smiled when he watched the girl smile once more, but he knew the inner workings of her heart. She still felt for him, the way she looked at him and blushed still shown the attraction she had for him and it hurt Diarmuid inside because he did not feel the same. But even so, he wanted her to stay by his side as one of his closest friends.

"Will you return to the castle with me?" Diarmuid asked. "The castle is in need of a Lady."

Gráinne chuckled before nodding her head. "If the king would have me, but do not hinder me from returning to my summer home should I feel the castle and the court become overbearing."

Diarmuid smiled and nodded himself, "I shan't."

Before the two could even have time for a pleasant conversation the guards had found the king and came into the home, though their entrance seemed much forced than usual and their alarm alerted their king to an emergency.

"My king!" they exclaimed as they came toward the man. "Three foreign ships have made it past our blockade and they have docked. There is a general amongst them and he demands to see you."

"He does not have the right to summon a king," Diarmuid said as he stood straight with a dominating presence about him that still set all around him in awe. "Let the people deal with him as they see fit."

"Behind him stands an army," his guards informed. "If you wish it then we will take care of them, but the people wish you to stand before them in a show of power."

Diarmuid was never one to deny the people and so he nodded and took to leave, but Gráinne had taken up her own saddle and ladies in waiting and rode with him. "Gráinne? Why do you mean to come with me?"

"I shall not interfere," the woman said with a nod. "But I do wish to see how you handle this situation."

"I had no idea I was being tested," Diarmuid jested with a chuckle. "But so be it. I never could stop you from doing what you wanted before."

They had ridden toward a coast where no towns were. The place was ideal for a dock but nothing had been established yet. In the distance there were the three foreign ships, the golden ones such as Diarmuid had destroyed before. Near to them were their own ships, though not as grand, still just as agile and effective in naval warfare.

Dismounting, Diarmuid took up his spears and marched with his guard toward where a crowd of people and knights have gathered, all armed and ready to stand by their king in defending their land's isolation. When he pushed past them he noticed the general immediately. He had seen this man before near that king of his all those years ago.

"Why hello," the man said as he looked toward Diarmuid who had stood before the crowd and had his guard and knights form a barrier even between them. "So you must be the king of this land?"

"I am," Diarmuid said and it was then he wondered when his thick accent had returned. Had he spoke like that for long? He remembered being amongst Queen Altria and the other knights, their accents being much different and because of so he had eased his own syllables. Now, it seems being amongst his people and in his birth land he had reverted back toward his old habits.

"For years we have been trying to seek a place to dock but have countless times been pushed away," the man had said. "In years before we had equally pleasant trading and I have come to inquire as to why you have suddenly isolated yourself. Tell me, are you afraid of us?"

"Afraid?" Diarmuid asked before chuckling along with the rest of his people who shook their heads and remembered clearly how their king had destroyed five ships upon his own. "One of the reasons, if you way know, was because of your lack of control."

The general rose his brow and frowned. "Come again?"

"There were six of your ships that broke off from your golden armada and came to destroy my shore-towns," Diarmuid stated. "It was because of this that my land and people were placed into a turmoil and it almost brought out into a war amongst ourselves."

"Six ships?" When the general turned toward his men and the glances they gave to one another Diarmuid and his own knights had caught the recognition. They knew of their missing ships and no doubt knew not of why they had vanished from them.

Diarmuid simply smiled and said, "You look smart and I am certain you keep a strict count upon your ships. I'm sure your king wasn't too pleased on their disappearance."

"So is this the reason for your isolation then?" the general asked once more.

Diarmuid nodded. "My people saw to the ships' end and now all trading has ceased."

"Surely the scars of the past have faded and you can open port again?"

Diarmuid nodded. "This kingdom is still rebuilding itself and the lack of trade has not weakened us and so we no longer need it. So here are the rules on this isle: every ship shall we turned away from our docks with a warning of destruction. Should they return, if they return a second time, I'm sure you know what would happen."

"So what, you are to kill us where we stand, king?" the general asked, looking quite undaunted by the king or his threats.

"Since you managed to set foot upon our land then you and your men shall be imprisoned," Diarmuid stated as his knights took steps closer toward the unnerved men. The general's frown deepened. "Let this be a lesson to anyone who tries to follow in your footsteps," Diarmuid said as he turned and made way to his horse.

"What about my men on ship? !" the general took a step forward, his hands clenched tightly into fists.

Diarmuid turned and looked out toward the three ships and watched as his own seven ships encircled them. "Any ship returning shall be destroyed, crew and all."

And then the general and his men watched with horror as the seven ships flung fire and debris at the three ships ensuring their sinking. Even from this far you could still hear the cries of the men still aboard the burning ships. With a rage the general turned and watched the king mount his horse with his guard surrounding, ready to leave.

"I know who you are, king!" Diarmuid turned back toward the man and narrowed his eyes. "You're Queen Altria's banished lancer. Humorous, I did not know they selected traitors for kings." Diarmuid hadn't said anything against the man's taunts. He remained silent and watched as his knights took hold of the general.

"My king shall hear about this!" the general spat. "You could start a war!"

"A war over an imprisonment of a general after he did not heed to the rules of another land? What grounds do you speak of for war?" Diarmuid asked with a frown. "Do not mock the people of this land." Diarmuid then rode his horse near the man and peered down at him with a dark aura, "If war should come then that king will fall. I have an armada of my own and if he should send ships then we shall just sink them all."

No more did Diarmuid listen to the angry cries of the general and had he and his men sent to prisons around the isle since there had been so many. Lady Gráinne had watched the entire thing and when her king rode up alongside her she turned to him and expressed her concern. "What if this really brings about a war? I do not think this land or its people can manage one so close."

"You doubt your people, Gráinne," Diarmuid said with an encouraging smile. "Their spirit has returned to them and are willing to defend this country with everything they have. I have been true to my word and built more ships to protect us. We are safer than we've ever been in years."

Gráinne had to agree. She had remembered the Isle Wars all those years ago and when her father had taken his own armada to defeat Uther's heir. She remembered how strong their kingdom had been and now when she looks upon all the rebuilding this land had received under its new king she could not help but gaze into a kingdom more grand than the one her ancestors had built. Diarmuid had let the people remember the pride of their land and let them rebuild. Diarmuid was truly a great king for this and the faith he had in their people never faltered.

His rule was even greater than her father's. Though Diarmuid had not ruled with an iron fist as King Cormac had, the man had let his spirit encourage the people and lead them into following him. When he would put away a prisoner, there were no questions asked. When he would tell them to erect a tower or to build five extra ships than previously scheduled, the people did not murmur, they did not grumble. They obeyed and Gráinne had never seen such an obedience from a people to their ruler in her life.

The knights were even so greatly sworn to the new king that their oaths of fealty to King Cormac were as if dreams and they stood alongside Diarmuid in every decision he made. So far Diarmuid had said nothing that upset even the royal council and it amazed the nobles to no end. He was truly too perfect and Gráinne prayed for the isle and this rule to remain to the end of time.

* * *

Altria covered her son's ears and eyes as she held him to her bosom and let King Gilgamesh throw his fit. The man had tossed down a table showing positions of his ships and upon a certain news he couldn't help but get a little emotional.

"Three MORE ships destroy? !" He cried out, looking toward his generals. "What became of my general? !"

"No word was heard from him, we assume he sank with the ships," they informed bitterly.

Altria watched Gilgamesh grind his teeth and when his scarlet eyes fell back upon her she saw them land upon her son.

"Why have you brought _that_ child with you, Altria?" he asked, looking at the young child she shielded with so much dismay.

"I had been in the meantime offering his meal when you had so hastily summoned me," Altria informed and praised her son for being so brave and holding still in the midst of the king's shouting.

It was no secret that Gilgamesh hated Altria's son. From the day of his birth onward his hatred grew for the bastard son of the queen. The more the child grew in the likeness of his own father the bitterness had thickened, especially the fact that the prince was not the king's own son. So Gilgamesh went his way in ignoring the child even his own child for that matter.

"Is there a reason you wished my presence or can I return and finish feeding my son?" Altria asked.

"Your son," Gilgamesh mumbled before seating himself once more and waving his generals away and looking at Altria. "You know of your neighbor, do you not?"

"Of course I do," Altria said. "But there have been no quarrels amongst ourselves for years."

"Then do tell me why I have lost nine damn warships to that isle!" Gilgamesh shouted once more.

Altria looked thoroughly confused and then said, "How is it that you have lost so many? Our neighbor does not harbor many ships as they used to."

"Oh, but they do," Gilgamesh said as he stood up and went over to the fallen map where he took it up and then came before the queen to show her to the markings. "Some years ago my ships took note of their patrols. Only here, here, and here were a few ships seen, no less than 10 but now we have encountered hundreds."

"Hundred?" Altria questioned. "Do they mean to attack us?"

"That is why I have summoned you, to inform me of their nature," Gilgamesh said as he looked upon his wife.

"I say I am not surprised that they would come to strike us again," Altria said. "Our histories have been intertwined many a time. Will you go to war?"

"I can't," Gilgamesh said with a strange chuckle.

"Why not?" Altria asked.

"Because I can find no grounds to go to war!"

"Why is this?" Altria asked as she narrowed her eyes knowing that her dear husband had not told her everything.

"Because they have yet to attack us," he informed.

"But you said you've lost nine ships."

Gilgamesh let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "All due to the fact the ships left their routes and persisted on speaking with the isle that has stated isolation upon itself."

"Perhaps you should leave them alone," Altria suggested. "They are a proud people and if they wish to remain in peace and isolation then let them. My people are enjoying the peace after the Isle Wars. I do not wish that kind of a war upon them again."

"One of my generals was abroad those ships that were sunk," Gilgamesh said. "He was a brilliant man and so you are telling me I should just sit idle and do nothing?"

"If you attack then you would be in the wrong," Altria informed as she stood up to look toward her king. "Am I wrong?"

King Gilgamesh let out a sigh and narrowed his eyes. "Their growing naval force is a threat, my ignorant wife. If I do not stamp out this threat when still nursing on its mother's milk then I risk a strong grown adversary upon my hands."

"And who shall fight these battles for you?" Altria asked in anger. "Your own ships or my people? You are upset over losing nine ships out of the hundreds you do carry. You have no idea what it is like to lose merely everything do to war and famine! What kind of a leader are you if you cannot bear such loses?"

"Silence!" Gilgamesh commanded, but Altria had not stayed put. She took another step forward with no fear and shook her head at him. "I will not, I cannot! If I must I shall travel to that kingdom myself and find the secret to these growing tensions!"

With that the queen turned on her heel and made to leave the throne room. Gilgamesh stood immediately at her departure. "You are forbidden from leaving this kingdom!"

"I am a representative of this kingdom just as much as the king," Altria said as she turned around with spite in her gaze. Shaking her head she said, "But where is he to stay war when he fear it comes? No, I should think he welcomes such a notion."

Once again Altria made her exit. King Gilgamesh just let out a laugh as he seated himself once more. "Fine!" he shouted out to her. "May you meet an end with the countless of ships that have!"

But Altria was not afraid. After she informed her faithful servants they as well worried, but did not stop her.

"I do not know how long I will be gone," she said as she sat near her children who played with their toys in the nursery. It was all she could do as her servants prepared her a vessel with her belongings onboard so that she may sail to the neighboring kingdom. "But I am leaving the safety of my children into your hands—especially my heir's." Altria took up her son and sat him upon her lap. With a kiss upon his head she let out a sigh and looked up toward her ex-knights whom all looked worried for her.

"We shall always support you, my queen," Lancelot said. "But we shall still always worry for you. If this is where you stand."

"It is," Altria informed while her daughter came to her side to let her mother pat her hair. "I'm not saying it will not be dangerous or I will return with answers but I do wish to return. I ask for your faith and prayers."

"You will always have them," her guards said as they bowed before her.

To say Queen Altria wasn't nervous was a lie. When she had set sail and watched her isle vanish from her eyes was the hardest thing she ever had to do. She had never left her land before in her life and leaving it felt as if she's left her very soul. Looking ahead she grew concerned for the approaching dangers.

She knew the king of the land; King Cormac had never liked her nor her lineage. That man was a wicked ruler but very prideful in his land and people. She knew he had his own reasons for isolation and if she came to find that it meant coming to war with her kingdom once again, well, she wouldn't stand for that twice.

Even though she went against her husband's wishes and decided to leave her kingdom the man did order she leave on one of his own ships since she was his wife. Altria's guards had not liked the idea and cautioned her against even slumbering should they steer the ship into sharp rocks to be rid of her. Because of this Altria kept her sword close in her cabin by her side and she had sworn to never leave it.

She could see the way the sailors looked at her, all carrying hate in their eyes that they assumed they quietly hid. When they sailed off Altria kept in her cabin unless they had run into the border patrol and when they had a storm had struck the seas. It had been in that time that Altria realized just how sick the sea made her.

She had been laying in her bed and managing the tosses when the ship had rocked hard to the right. Fearing the boat may capsize, Altria had left her room with sword strapped to her side and made her way upon deck. There she struggled to hang on to anything as the rain and the wind pressed against her.

She noticed how her presence had been ignored and how all of the seamen had been struggling to maintain the ship. When she had made her way to the mast Altria took hold of a rope and held on tightly. As she did a man had come up to her and recognized her. "My queen?" He asked. "You should remain below deck!"

"I do not take commands from you!" Altria recoiled and watched as the men had halted their tasks and looked starboard. With wide eyes they watched as three large ships came into view. Altria had never seen ships these large and figured they had been recently built. Just how long had they been building these ships? Last Altria knew was that they had less than ten ships.

When the ships began to communicate to them via signals Altria's crew had a hard time responding. "Ask them if they shall give us a reason for their isolation!" she called to them through the storm. "And tell them that a royal ambassador is onboard!"

But the storm had tossed them around too much that a large wave had come up onto deck and nearly tossed a few men out to sea. Altria feared they may never get a chance to ask if the storm did not cease. When the ship rocked forward Altria slid from the mast and landed against the railing. After almost slipping forward and falling overboard, Altria looked up and then gasped.

The side of the ship rammed right into one of the ships furthest right. The haul was stern so nothing too bad happened, but Altria's ship had rocked so badly that it managed to slip right through the ships and the rain and hail and sea spray made it impossible for the ships to turn and track them. So they had made it through.

After tossing and turning throughout the night the storm finally ceased and now it appeared as if the storm hadn't happened at all. Altria's stomach finally had the chance to settle. Finding a crate to sit onto, Altria sat down and looked at the beaten ship.

"We need to turn back," she said. The men simply looked at her as if she were mad.

"Didn't you want to make it to the isle?" they asked her.

"It is not right to sneak onto this isle without finding a reason why we cannot get a meeting. If you would have informed them that I was onboard then we could receive audience with the king."

"We had been in a storm," they complained. "You try to communicate to another ship when the storm tosses you!"

"Upon my orders will you obey," Altria commanded as she made her way back toward her cabin. But as she made her way back toward her room she caught a group of men talking amongst themselves saying, "I know the king wishes to be rid of her. Why don't we just leave her on this isle?" "And risk her coming back? It would be best just to . . ."

When they saw her they silenced themselves. She was not afraid of them and made sure she knew it with her head held high as she walked back into her room and settled there for the night. There she remained until . . . she had fallen asleep.

She hadn't known how exhausted she had been until she blinked one moment and then fell asleep. She even found herself dreaming . . . dreaming of her lover. Diarmuid was above her, smiling down at her. His hard hands were upon her wrists to hold her there and when she beckoned him to move closer he did not move, instead he let go of her left wrist and then picked up his prized golden spear. "Diarmuid?" she remembered questioning as her eyes widened and she watched the man thrust the spear down toward her. "Diarmuid!"

Altria woke with a start and gasped upon seeing the sailor above her with a dagger in hand. With a quick block, Altria brought up her left arm and thrust her elbow into the man's nose. The man darted back and Altria quickly kicked him away and grabbed her sword, running toward the door and exiting. The moment she opened her door she watched as two more men stood outside, waiting with their own weapons. With a cry, Altria struck the two of them down before running up the stairs and onto the deck.

"The queen's here!" they had cried and it was then she saw how the crew had turned on her. Without another word Altria took up her weapon and fought her attackers. She had known the crew was of Gilgamesh's picking, but to try and kill her? Was this his doing?

The men had underestimated her and because of that it was their undoing. Of course this fight wasn't for the invincible. One of the men managed a strike against her leg and it had crippled Altria to an extent, but she dealt with the pain to strike the rest of them down.

In her attack she had slain the helmsman and unbeknownst the ship was set off course. When Altria had slain or wounded most she had turned just in time to watch as the ship collided with jagged rocks, breaking the ship in two. She had been thrown forward and into the sea.

Striking her head against one rock had set her mind spinning but she had managed to make it to the beach along with some soldiers she had recently slain. She looked at their motionless bodies and caught her breath before she heard the sound of hounds and the trampling off hoofs. The knights of the land must have seen their ship and were no doubt coming to behead the survivors.

Taking off what she could, Altria took the armor off the dead soldiers. She knew she'd have to fight her away toward a safer place if she wanted to live to have that meeting with the king. She had brought no armor of her own and so had no choice but to wear the armor of her husband's army. With it she would be able to protect the vulnerable parts of her body and hopefully manage to evade more fights once she made it out of this one.

Standing up straight Altria ignored the gash upon her leg and held her long sword out before her. As the knights encircled her she counted them, 34, there were thirty-four of them. Altria did not doubt her skill and knew she would be able to stay these mens' blades from her neck. But on where to run to flee was of her main concern. She knew that even the civilians on this land could be prideful, but as to where they stood with the king and his men was questionable.

So, once again, without a word Altria attacked and made her way through the knights of the land.

* * *

All last night it had rained and just when the morning looked promising, those dark clouds hid the face of the sun once more and wept over the land. King Diarmuid had gotten a little more than annoyed. He had high hopes for the day, one that involved riding, fencing, perhaps a visit to the farm, anything to get out of the castle. But no, he had been stuck inside for near a week and he was becoming restless.

"The rain's good, my lord," Lady Gráinne had said while she sat near the fireplace and leisurely sewed her needlework. She smiled at her close friend who took to standing near the window and watching the rains pour before his limbs became restless and he began pacing back and forth. "It livens the land."

"But not my spirit," Diarmuid said with a sigh. Turning he sat himself in a chair and looked toward his friend who remained quiet in her work. "Did you know that our neighboring kingdom actually has timed rainfall?"

Gráinne turned her brown eyes upon her king and friend. She watched as he gently and sweetly reminisced about the years before, when he had been a knight to that queen. She could see his heart still longed to see that isle and the figure of his queen. He never openly admitted it, but Gráinne as well as the knights knew that their new king still held that woman higher than himself and would always consider himself as her knight, only hers.

But she often wondered if the queen came before Diarmuid and she asked him to return to her and become her knight . . . would he do it? Would he forsake this land and people and give up his very crown that he had rightfully earned just to become a servant once more and sit at that woman's feet? With that kind of a thought Gráinne found herself fuming often and she knew she wasn't the only one. Who else would be king if not Diarmuid? Doesn't he see this land needs him? The people love him and would have never awoken their spirit if not for his leadership and guidance.

Lady Gráinne just prayed a situation like that would never come to pass. But the young king wasn't so secretive for his close friend to not know how he wishes to return to the isle of which he fled and to see the kingdom once again, of course he'd have to revoke their isolation and as far as Gráinne knew he had decided let the people come to the right time to cancel their isolation on their own. He was king and could do so if he wanted to, but having such a heart for the people kept his longing spirit at bay and Gráinne was glad, no matter how selfish it seemed.

"What are you working on?" Diarmuid asked, looking at Gráinne's work. She looked down and smiled before holding it up. In her work was sewn stars and wreaths of wheat, a very beautiful and story-drawn quilt. Diarmuid smiled and pointed toward it. "You're very talented. Why don't you make a large piece?"

Gráinne let out a sigh and shrugged her shoulders. "I probably should consider that, though I don't know where I would start."

"That work usually tells some sort of a story, right?" Diarmuid asked. "Whether it be a fairy tale or a dream one's had or even a history. You should do it, Gráinne. It would be a wondrous work."

"Then I should have the ladies help me," Gráinne said smiling nervously as she pulled a lock of hair behind her ear. "I fear I could not accomplish something so grand-envisioned by our king of my own."

"Then it won't be grand at all if you receive help," Diarmuid said with a frown. "I want the work to be completely yours. It'd be a pleasant gift to your king."

"Now you've pressured me, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne! How dare you do this to a lady?" Gráinne exclaimed as she hid her needlework and shook her head, but she smiled when she heard Diarmuid's light-hearted laughter.

The king had begun to laugh so hard that he was crying. "Apologies," he said, wiping at his eyes. "You never cease to make me laugh, Gráinne." The woman simply threw her nose into the air and continued her work, but the thoughts of a grander project filled her mind and her needle slowed to all but a halt.

"My king!"

A guard suddenly burst into the room and startled the two. Diarmuid was quick to stand up and listen. "A ship has come ashore!" the guard informed and without another word Diarmuid had turned and took up his cloak that had been hanging to warm near the fireplace. He wrapped it around his neck and pulled the hood up and secured it.

Down the halls he marched and let his guards and knights approach him with his two spears and light armor. Usually he armored himself, but his men insisted that he save himself from the time and just let them strap his belts and plates together and hand him his weapons. Taking up his spears and rolling shoulders to make sure the armor wasn't strapped too tight, Diarmuid walked quickly out of the castle toward the stables where they mounted their steeds.

"Anyone onboard?" Diarmuid asked as he took up reigns and steered his horse out of the stables alongside his guard and knights.

"None alive, my lord," his guard riding closest informed. "But one of the soldiers managed to make it to shore and as we speak Captain Fionn is holding off the assailant."

"King Gilgmesh's men?" Diarmuid asked, his eyes narrowing.

The guard nodded. "The ship and make of armor upon the men are identical. This soldier though . . . he fights as if the devil chases his heels."

Diarmuid smirked. A fighter, huh? It's been a while since he's had any sort of challenge.

Through the wind and battering rain they rode through the storm and hoped to stay upon the roads because of the poor visibility now. When they had made it to the coast where the ship had been said to have crashed they stood atop the hill and watched from below as the knights surrounding the soldier were rammed and struck away.

The knights and guards turned toward their king and watched a smirk fall across his lips. They admitted that they too were eager to watch their king's skill upon the battlefield shine once more. Kicking the horse in the sides, King Diarmuid raced toward the quarrel and with agile grace jumped off the stallion and landed into the center of the circling knights. But just as he had his heart stopped. The moment his feet touched the muddy ground he watched in horror as one of his knights, Oscar, had went to strike the golden soldier with a full forced swing from his blade, but the soldier quickly evaded and moved away from the swing and instead brought his own weapon down upon Oscar, severing his hand clean off.

"Oscar!" Diarmuid cried out and took up his short spear and flung it at the soldier. It had struck the man against the helmet, but the spear's aim was off and slid down into the mud. The soldier had turned to him though and quickly took up their sword and came at him.

Diarmuid barely had time to react as the soldier used their sword to fling the rain at him and blind him for a moment. Darting back, Diarmuid barely saved his own neck as the sword swung near, the sheer force it emitted was felt against Diarmuid's skin and it prickled. Spinning low to the ground, Diarmuid recovered his sight and went to swipe at the unarmored ankles, but he noticed that this soldier's feet and calves were heavily armored and so he simply slammed his spear against the footing, hoping the soldier would fall from the impact, but something unexpected happened . . . the soldier had stood upon the shaft of the spear and pressed his weight upon it, making Diarmuid's hands sink into the mud.

Looking up, Diarmuid watched the soldier peer down at him through visored armor eyes. Only a moment was spared and when the long sword was brought down upon him, Diarmuid moved to the slide quickly and allowed the warrior to slice the tail of his cloak in two. It didn't matter, if the rain wished to soak him wet then let it, he had other worries at the moment.

As the warrior pressed down upon him, Diarmuid gripped his scarlet spear with both hands and pulled the man off. They hadn't weighed too much and it had been easy to free his spear, but this warrior was light on his feet and quick to strike again. When Diarmuid rose to his feet once more he was being pushed back by an array of strikes and thrusts.

_This has to be a general_, Diarmuid thought to himself knowing it had to be the only reason why this man was so strong. He remembered the 2,400 he had fought and knew that none of the soldiers, though many, could compare skill in combat to this warrior before him.

With a roll, Diarmuid had taken up his other spear and began deflecting this soldier's strikes. After five times of successfully deflecting their strikes the soldier began to tire and it was then Diarmuid noticed that strangely aimed strikes. Taking in the body posture, Diarmuid could see they were lacking a better balance; they were dizzy.

Taking note to this weakness Diarmuid decided to dart left to right to find out which side the person became most dizzy with, it was their right side and so Diarmuid brought his short spear down and almost struck the man, but instead it had merely snagged onto his tunic. When the man pulled away Diarmuid discovered another weakness; a wounded leg.

Glancing back Diarmuid watched as Oscar's grandfather, Fionn, had just finished wrapping his severed wrist and looked toward him with a nod. Diarmuid inwardly sighed, glad that his knight was in no life threat, but this soldier wasn't weakening as quickly as he had thought and so he pulled both of his spears close together and began pushing them on the defense.

Over and over Diarmuid thrust his spears close, so close that most looking on at the battle thought that Diarmuid would have smote the warrior, but the warrior always surprised them all by darting away. They couldn't get far due to the circle the knights had created to trap the man. They all could see him looking around, trying to find a way out.

"There's no escape foreigner!" Diarmuid shouted as he brought his long spear down and just when he thought he'd land a strike the warrior evaded once more, but their footing and balance was terribly off and they slipped. So Diarmuid overcame them and went to disarm them as soon as possible. He caught the long sword with his short spear and went to swing it out of the man's hands, but that grip was tight and they instead let one of their hands go of the sword and instead grabbed the very blade of the short spear and held it there.

Diarmuid gasped, his eyes widened in sheer surprise at this move, but he couldn't hold his awe forever when he noticed how the soldier's grip on their sword tightened and now brought it up toward his abdomen. With another surprise, but to the soldier, Diarmuid had caught the blade against his ribs, just under his arm and held it there, not caring how it cut into the skin.

He watched with bliss as the warrior struggled to pull it back, but found it no use. Just as Diarmuid took his long spear and swung it around downward at the warrior this man had leapt up, letting go of their own blade, and struck Diarmuid across the face. The impact had knocked his hood off and the rain began to mix with the blood coming out of his nostrils. The spray of the rain had made him cough and as he brought his hand to his nose he had noticed the warrior had stood themself up.

The sight made Diarmuid know this fight was about the end. He could see the soldier shaking; every part of him trembled, especially when they rose their blade. This time instead charging forward they had darted to the right and ran in a circle. Diarmuid had been finding it hard to keep track of the man seeing how the rain had worsened and the visibility was incomprehensible and the sound of the ongoing rain made it hard to hear the rushing steps of the warrior.

To test his perimeter, Diarmuid swung his long spear around and when he heard his blade smack against steel he smiled. The soldier was closer than he had thought. So turning around quickly, Diarmuid crouched and thrust his short spear outward and smirked, he got him.

An echoing gasp resonated throughout the field and Diarmuid heard clear as day. With satisfaction he watched as the soldier's blood fell down the sharp edges of his short spear and with no pity at all, yanked the spear right back and watched the wounded warrior fall to the ground. The wound had ripped from his side and began to stain the ground with blood, but Diarmuid didn't care.

He had grabbed the collar plating of the soldier's armor and dragged him towards the edge of the circle and shoved the soldier into the mud at his knight, Oscar's feet.

"Sir Oscar," Diarmuid exclaimed while he picked the soldier up by the helmet and held the man there in his agony. "I believe you deserve the honor of taking this man's head. A head for a hand seems like a fair price to me!"

The knights gave their encouraging shouts. Fionn had helped his grandson take a sword in his unharmed hand and hold it against the man's neck just as Diarmuid tore the helmet from the warrior.

It seemed to have happened in an instant. The rain became louder as Diarmuid's knights became quiet and still. Even the sword laden upon the soldier's neck had remained so still that one would think it was made of stone. Diarmuid's confusion rose tenfold toward his knight's behavior and the look of utter shock upon their faces.

When Diarmuid looked toward the soldier he had recently fought to turn in the same direction as his men his eyes widened; his breathing stopped; his heart beat no more; and time mattered no longer to him. What he and the rest of the knights gazed at was the face of no man or foreign warrior, but that of a woman whose face contorted in pain as blood ran down her chin.

This was not just any warrior woman. Diarmuid as well as the rest of the isle knew of only one woman who could fight just as strong as any man. She was no soldier, she was no knight, nor was she a general. She was a queen. She was . . .

"ALTRIA!" Diarmuid cried out in sheer horror at the recollection on what he had done to her. His knees were so fast to buckle that he fell to the muddy ground below just as quickly as Altria had. His arms quickly wrapped around the woman and held her close, looking toward her face and begging her to open her eyes.

Altria did open her eyes but the green color was faded and eroded with pain. So blinded in her pain that she had not the time to see or care on whom held her and so leaning her head back the queen had closed her eyes once more and gave into the pain.

"Altria? Altria?" Diarmuid gasped out, running his fingers over her blood smeared face. "ALTRIA!"


	10. Lost In Paradise

**TheThirdTime'sACharm: Wow, did I tell you guys that you rock? 'Cause you do! Your reviews make me so happy, thanks a bunch. I'm super glad to hear everyone likes it so far so thought I'd drop another chapter on your laps today. Thanks again! I love hearing from you, readers!**

* * *

"Another vessel lost?" Gilgamesh asked, raising a brow. "Hm, that foolish girl, I warned her."

The guard around the king had heard of his messengers' information. Their queen's ship had vanished on its route and is no longer able to be located from King Gilgamesh's patrol ships. They had all known it was risky and had warned their queen, but she had never been swayed by their words much less their concerns.

But at this news Lancelot especially had come to the nursery and spoken with Prince Erin's wet-nurse.

"I require that you take the prince and his belongings and settle them at my estate," he told the woman who was minding the children. She looked confused and almost shocked before looking down at the children who had been playing together peacefully.

"Has there been an order from the queen?" She asked.

Lancelot nodded and eyed Gawain who stood near warily. "The queen's ship has vanished and she had informed me that if anything should happen to her that I be given her heir to look after."

"He shan't be happy to leave his home," the wet-nurse explained as she turned around and bid the waiting servants to pack up the prince's belongings. "He can be quite vocal on his likes and dislikes."

"I know well," Lancelot said with a smile as he watched the prince turn to the servants currently packing away his toy chest. He had taken a little while to stand up but once he did he hopped over to them and threw his hands upon the chest. "No!" He cried. "My toys!"

Princess Igraine had even noticed something amiss. She frowned and came up to the servants and placed her fists onto her hips as if imitating her mother. "Where are you taking my brother's toys?"

"Ah, my lady," the wet-nurse said with a smile as she came to the two and pulled Erin off the chest so the servants could continue. "You see, Sir Lancelot here has been ordered by your mother to have the young prince live with him until she returns."

"But mother left a long while ago," Igraine denoted. "Why now? Can I come too?"

Lancelot came up to the young girl and smiled. Kneeling down he patted her head and then shook his own. "I am sorry, my young princess, but your place is here, to keep watch over the castle while your mother is away."

"What, why?" Igraine asked with a pout. "I like your home, Lancelot. It is not fair that my brother should visit and not me!"

"Princess Igraine," Gawain spoke up as he too came close to the pouting girl. "You're the lady of the house now that your mother is away. It is your duty to upkeep this place. I will be staying with you to help. Besides, I thought you found your brother to be quite annoying?"

"W-Well I do," Igraine agreed and sneered at her little brother who began throwing a fit the moment the wet-nurse picked him up and hauled him into her room to fit him into a change of clothing. "But why does he get to travel when I must stay?"

The two knights simply looked at one another and sighed. It was hard to get into the mind of a seven-year-old girl, especially that of a princess. They often wondered if their beloved queen was this thick skulled. It didn't matter though, in the end they had Gawain stay behind with most of the guard while Lancelot took a few with him to his home.

It was not an easy task to explain to a young princess why her brother, the land's crowned heir had to leave the castle. Little Igraine would never begin to understand the reason for this. The reason that her father and Erin's father were not the same and thus Erin's life was constantly in danger, more so since his mother has vanished.

If Queen Altria didn't return soon then she would be presumed dead and lost to the sea. This happenstance would shift Prince Erin's position in line to the throne from third to second where his mother had been. King Gilgamesh, as most people knew, wanted complete control and if by being rid of the heirs to the land then he would likely do it, especially that of little Erin whose parentage he so despised.

How could you tell a young girl that? You couldn't and so Gawain had to manage with the princess's pouting while her brother was taken by Lancelot and began to live in his home. When the ex-knight had brought him before his wife, she frowned and bore sadness within her eyes.

"Our queen is no longer with us, is she?" Elaine asked as she let her husband past the door and into the foyer with their prince sleeping upon his breast, wet-nurse and servants in tow. Lancelot's grim face was enough for Elaine and so she closed her eyes and placed her hand upon her heart. "They may come looking for him, Lancelot," she said as she looked at the slumbering prince who had grown more and more in the likeness of his father.

Lancelot simply looked back at the knights who had come with him to help protect the prince. He nodded to them and then turned back to his wife and pulled her close. "We're the only ones who can protect him—not just as crown prince, but the child of two very dear friends of ours. They would want us to keep their son safe."

Elaine smiled before she reached out and took up the child into her own arms. He made small whines at being woken but he was quick to fall back asleep against the breast of a woman. Elaine smiled and held the child close.

"I miss when Galahad was this small," the lady of the house said, remembering when her little eight-year-old had once been so small. "A toddler's company should do me good," Elaine agreed while she leaned down and kissed the child's raven-haired head.

Lancelot smiled and then turned toward the other knights. "We have room to spare so this stay should not become unpleasant."

"How long do you assume we shall remain here?" one knight asked. Lancelot frowned before letting out a sigh. "It all depends on whether the king decides to leave the child in peace."

"And if he does?" Elaine asked.

"If he does and our queen never returns to this land then I have taken it upon myself to raise him in Altria's stead," Lancelot informed and smiled as the rest of the knights stepped forward with fists upon their chests.

"We shall raise him alongside you as well, brother. If it should come to war over the throne once more then we shall shape Prince Erin into the ruler our Queen would have wanted him to be."

"I shall help raise him as well," Elaine quipped in and patted her husband's shoulder plate. "Every child, be them a boy or a girl, still needs a mother figure in their life and if I must then I shall be that mother figure for this child. Besides, I had always wanted another child."

Lancelot smiled with happy ease when he watched love and adoration form in his wife's eyes. She had already claimed the child as her own. It was a good sign that he was accepted so soon. This meant his rearing wouldn't become so difficult—especially if the king of the land left his life in peace.

* * *

Altria had opened her eyes once, but her eyelids bid them close once more. She had odd dreams in the darkness of her unconsciousness and wondered about many a thing here and there, far and wide. But her body was quick to become restless and when she finally managed to open her eyes for a second time she found it to be day.

Turning her head to her right Altria noticed that it was actually high noon. Why had she slumbered this late and . . . why was she on land? In a room? Altria had made to move but the moment she tried to push her body up with her elbows a pain in her side erupted and forced her to lay still until it subsided.

From that pain she had recognized another. It was a dull throbbing on her leg and it was then Altria remembered her plight and the men who had tried to slay her where she stood on board her husband's ship. She had slain every last one of them and felt no pity for them. If a servant rises a hand against their ruler they deserved to be struck down, especially for underestimating her.

But after she had slain the men the ship had crashed itself into jagged rocks and Altria remembered being thrown overboard. She remembered the sand of the isle shore and she remembered having to put on a soldier's armor to protect herself against . . .

Altria's attention was torn away from her thoughts when a maid came in with a basin full of hot steaming water. The lady seemed to have not even taken note to her consciousness as she placed the basin down beside the bed and wet a cloth. When she went to put it over Altria's brow the lady had jumped back.

The knights! Altria remembered, her eyes widening and in an instant she forced herself to sit erect. The maid had long since abandoned her task and run off screaming no doubt to the healers that she had awoken.

It was hard to move with a wound to her side and leg. Altria even found it hard to breathe because of her ribs being affected by the gash. But Altria was a strong girl, she remembered fighting those knights but that was all. She hadn't remembered how she received her wound near her ribs nor how she managed to make it to a healer.

A thin linen gown was all that covered Altria and as she looked around for something more befitting to wear her head darted in the direction of the doorway as tall men full of armor entered. Altria had backed herself near her bed once more and would toss hot water upon them if they approached her, but though their hands rested upon their weapons their muscles were relaxed, but their eyes wary.

After the knights had entered and created a horizontal line against the wall, the guards entered after, then creating a vertical line, the closest pair of guards standing facing each other just a few feet from her. As Altria gripped the basin tighter and about flung it at the nearest guard's head she had not the chance as a warrior came rushing into the room down the center of the guards and before Altria knew it the man was holding her in his arms.

"Altria!" he cried out, his arms strong around her before her knees buckled and gave up what strength they had.

The queen had been frozen. Her mind running at no speed, but as her hands came up to the man's shoulders the touch suddenly felt familiar and she let the feel bring her memories to her. Up her hands went and when she touched raven locks Altria had gasped. Pulling herself away from the man so that she may look upon his face Altria froze.

It was Diarmuid. Diarmuid Ua Duibhne.

Altria's lips parted as if to say something but nothing came out. All she could do was stare at the man. Her green eyes began to shine brighter the more her tears built up behind her eyelids. She hadn't even known she was crying because she was too focused on the man's smile, so happy and relieved, and his golden gaze so full of worry with sparkling tears of his own.

Suddenly, it was just she and Diarmuid in the room. The two stared at each other for what felt like an eternity and when Altria finally reached out to touch Diarmuid's jaw she blinked and let her tears fall. He was real. She placed two hands upon him and just felt his face and the warmth of his tears.

"Diarmuid?" she whispered through a hoarse voice and found herself suddenly choking on her tears and then she was laying down again, the man she had not seen for years now kneeling by her bedside and holding her hand close, not saying a word, just smiling.

"I am here, Altria," he whispered and held her hand close to his lips.

"I thought that I would . . . never see you again," Altria whispered now afraid of her own voice to raise any higher than a whisper.

"I had once believed the same," Diarmuid said before he frowned, his eyes becoming dark with grief as he placed his hand gently onto her wound. Altria gasped lightly and laid her hand atop his own. "I am sorry for this, Altria. I had not known you were in disguise."

Disguise? Suddenly Altria remembered. She remembered the fight with the cloaked warrior. Even though she had been dizzy from striking her head against the rocks she remembered the man whom she fought and whom had almost killed her. Diarmuid . . . it had been Diarmuid? She might have known with those two spears of his, but she had been so caught up in the fight she had forgotten the combatant skills of one of her closest knights. Shame on her.

"Forgive me, Altria, forgive me," Diarmuid wept as he laid his head down beside her and wept out his apologies. Everything had come upon the queen all at once that Altria was still trying to comprehend everything. But she smiled and placed her hands upon Diarmuid's head and bid him rise.

"This is not your wrong, but mine," she said with soft eyes and an ever soft and understanding smile. "In my hast to reach this isle and meet with King Cormac I had not cautioned myself enough against King Gilgamesh's men."

Diarmuid then realized that the woman had indeed come through upon one of that man's ships. The crew aboard were all Gilgamesh's men. Leaning in closer, Diarmuid asked, "They meant to be rid of you?"

"Of course," Altria said. "I just hadn't expected it so soon."

"In my ignorance I almost saw you to death's embrace," Diarmuid said, mentally cursing himself but Altria simply placed her soft hands upon his fists and bid them ease. When they had she laced her fingers with his own and smiled at him in silence again, just so thankful to see him again.

"It does my heart good, Diarmuid, to see you after so many years."

"Just to touch you once more; I never thought that God would allow me such a pleasure," Diarmuid admitted as he held her hands close to his heart. Altria smiled before she closed her eyes and frowned. "I am sorry for running from your presence with such a haste, but I did come here to request a meeting with King Cormac. You may not know this but this isle's isolation had upset my husband."

When Altria had said "my husband" Diarmuid reluctantly let go of her hands. So the man was alive and well. A shame.

With a sigh Diarmuid rose himself once more and informed the queen on the going on's on the isle. "King Cormac has passed away," he informed.

Altria's eyes widened. "Had it been so long?" she asked.

Diarmuid nodded his head. "He died in battle."

"Were you at war?" Altria asked. So many questions needed answers that Altria about fell out of her bed. "Had someone invaded? King Gilgamesh told me about the destruction of nine of his ships. Did this kingdom do that?"

Diarmuid nodded. "The people have decided to remain in isolation and I have sworn myself to them, Altria. As their guardian I will do whatever it takes to make sure their peace is undisturbed."

He's sworn himself to the people? Altria hadn't known he would do this. But it had been many a year since she had last heard any news of him so anything could have happened. Diarmuid was always a servant and looked to please the populace, but to go as far as to swearing to another kingdom. Altria had felt her heart sink. She knew that the man was free of her rule or say but she had hoped he still felt the same way he used to for her and her kingdom. So much has changed and now she wondered if this Diarmuid was but the same man she had loved and birthed a son to.

She knew the disappointment in her eyes wasn't well hidden but she hadn't cared. Casting her eyes down Altria placed her hand upon her wounded side. So many thoughts had been running through her mind that she became internally tormented and in that moment she had wanted to cry, but refused to do so before her lover . . . her guard . . . her knight . . . her friend . . . if he was anything such any longer.

"I am sorry," Altria said, closing her eyes and inhaling a pained breath that she very much needed. "But no matter my wounds I do need to speak with the current king. At least I need to come to an understanding about this isle so that I may return to my kingdom and my husband. Diarmuid, he is on the brink of forcing a war upon this isle if your intentions are not made clear." The queen had looked at the man quite serious and Diarmuid frowned before motioning toward the guard and knights, bidding them leave the room for a moment.

They did as commanded and Altria looked at her ex-guard curiously. Diarmuid had straightened himself before her and it was then Altria noted his attire. Before, even as a knight of her kingdom, Diarmuid never took to the silks and satins; no, just simply warrior attire, easy to move in and easy to cleanse. Now he was wearing dark green satin clothing, the sleeves of his shirt were both long and fitting to his muscular arms and the collar rose to just under his jaw. He had worn a dark cloak as well about his shoulders, a golden chain latched and keeping it upon his shoulders.

She certainly hadn't remembered his description to be as this from her guards who had visited him when they could. They had said he lived with an old farmer, offering his hand in the harvest when it came. They had said that Diarmuid had let his hair go from razors and that his clothing almost that of a beggars or a wandering mercenary.

Had this isle seen so much turmoil that they possible hired Diarmuid for his services and offered fine clothing? Now he was cleanly shaven, his angular jaw showing more defined with the cut and his hair had been cut as well, most of it pushed back in a rough fashion like how he used to, but there was a stray strand poking out in front of his face, but Altria thought it very befitting of him and she couldn't help but take notice in how attractive he was like this.

The man had always been attractive, but now he looked like some rich merchant if not a lord or a . . .

"Since you are still not well from recent injury, I see it fit that we meet here in this room, if you should have no objections," Diarmuid said, looking quite serious and for a moment Altria had wondered if this was her Diarmuid. After his sentence she paused a moment in thought before she parted her lips slowly.

"Are you . . .?"

"I am King Cormac's successor and rightful king of this isle," Diarmuid informed and watched as Altria's eyes widened, but her shock was brief.

She had smiled before nodding her head and saying, "I suppose I should have known. How the guard and knights treated your entrance was befitting of a king."

"Believe me that I would have them stay in their protection of me," Diarmuid admitted. "I am capable of defending myself, but their presence is still comforting."

"It always is," Altria said, finding herself once more thinking upon her men and the past when they were not her guard but her noble knights.

"Our isolation occurred because of a rogue group of your husband's ships. They terrorized coastal cities and shore-towns. King Cormac had sought to plunder them and use the treasures to hire mercenaries to fight a war against your kingdom once more since his people no longer swore their faith to him. It had been a hard time here and afterwards he refused to protect the towns against those ships, even going so far as to order his knights stay themselves from their duty to the people."

Altria closed her eyes with grief. King Cormac had always been a horrid king and to do such a thing to his people and order his knights with such a command. It was disgraceful.

"So you rose up and became the people's guardian," Altria concluded as she looked toward Diarmuid who nodded.

"You know my heart, Altria," Diarmuid stated with a small smile. "It was in that that I had unwittingly challenged the king for his throne and because of this King Cormac rose against me and sought my life. I came out victor and he met his end on his own blade. Now I rule to serve the people and because of our isolation this kingdom has become grand once more."

"What about the ships?" Altria asked. "King Gilgamesh has concerns for the number."

"They are to protect our coasts," Diarmuid informed. "I do not plan on stopping their construction."

"Your fleet might outgrow my husband's," Altria informed knowing that Diarmuid would understand Gilgamesh's concern.

Diarmuid let out a sigh and said, "My people will not go to war with your kingdom again. As their king I can assure you. I am sorry that we have cut trade but now is a time of rebuilding."

Diarmuid had motioned toward Altria's window. When the woman went to sit up and look she found her wound had hindered her and so Diarmuid came to her side and helped her to see. When she looked out she beheld a white city, beautiful and sparkling in the sunlight and beyond there was more construction. Diarmuid was right, this kingdom was growing.

With a smile, Altria turned toward Diarmuid and offered a curtsy. "My congratulations on such a fine rule, your majesty." She watched how Diarmuid blinked to the formality and she laughed to herself knowing he was not used to it coming for her lips. "Also," she said, "thank you for your time to speak with me. I should hope our kingdoms remain at peace with one another." Then she was quiet once more.

"Altria?" Diarmuid questioned, but Altria closed her eyes and rose her hand to silence him.

"I believe if I should offer title in words then you should as well."

Diarmuid seemed confused for a moment before Altria watched what looked like a sadness wash over his features before his face became hard and he inclined his head saying, "I understand, Queen Altria."

"Now, if you would be so kind to offer me a ship to return home I would be forever in your debt," Altria bade as she made her way back to her bed and sat down gently so not to agitate her wound. When she looked back at Diarmuid she noticed his dark stare.

"I am afraid," he started as he stood where he was. "That this isle has rules belonging to the state of its isolation . . . Any ships shall be turned away, none permitted to dock or depart. A warning will be issued but if they should return a second time then I have given my naval ships the right to destroy the ships. If a foreigner should step foot upon our shores then an immediate arrest shall take part and they shall be handed over to the court to decide their fate."

"So . . . I am a prisoner then?" Altria asked, looking at the tall man who seemed to not be able to look at her. "Look at me, King Diarmuid. You are king, yes? Then stop hiding your face from royal affairs!" The authority in her tone came from years of rule and Diarmuid wondered if he could ever match her command. But he looked at her and noticed the anger within her eyes.

"I am the queen of your neighboring kingdom. If you should arrest me then a war you may have upon your hands," Altria explained.

"It may or may not," Diarmuid replied. "Your husband might think you were lost to the waves. Unless memory dissuades me, he had never really cared for your wellbeing. I shouldn't think he considers you of worth to go to war."

It could have been an insult if it had not been the truth. Altria knew Diarmuid was right, in that he was her Diarmuid, remembering how her husband treated her as nothing but a mistress of the lowest kind. But would she be forgotten so easily by one called her husband? And what of her people or her guard?

"I have a son, Diarmuid," Altria whispered as the possibilities came in of what could happen due to her absence. "He is my heir and, by my husband's standards, a threat. I cannot explain my need to return to my home and protect my child. I cannot afford to wait here."

Diarmuid had known that King Gilgamesh had hated his child, but to the point where he might threaten his life? What a lowly king. So Diarmuid approached Altria and bowed himself.

"I will do everything in my power to make it so the court sees to your release," Diarmuid said.

"The court," Altria said with a chuckle before turning to Diarmuid with watery eyes full of fear and concern. "What do they care about a queen from across the sea? To them I am just a trespassing foreigner. Not just any foreigner, to them I had brought about the decline of their kingdom. I am sure their hate for me grows."

"If you continue to sulk like this then yes they shall hate you," Diarmuid spoke up, narrowing his eyes at the woman. Altria was astonished that Diarmuid would rise up against her, but as this kingdom's king, he had no choice but to side with his people first. "The Queen Altria I knew would not sit and wallow about concerns. She always held her head high even in the midst of people not her own. I have wanted my people to see you like I remembered you, Altria. I believe they can and that you could inspire them to see you as the magnificent ruler you are."

"Those days are long gone, Diarmuid," Altria muttered as she leaned back against the pillows propped up against her. "Of distant dreams that time is. Now I have become a wife to a king who despises me and a mother to a bastard son who has become my heir. What would your people care for that?"

"He's my child too, Altria," Diarmuid muttered.

The queen had turned and looked toward the young king who cast his eyes away from her. There had been a silence that cut through the both of them before Diarmuid could stand it no more and simply left. The door had been slammed a little hard but both ignored it.

Altria had only sat on her bed and pulled the covers over her legs up to her breast. She had let the feeling of her heart sinking to its lowest depths take hold of her before she pulled the sheets even closer to her.

"I know, Diarmuid," she whispered through her tears for her child. "I know.

* * *

Oscar sat in his bed, letting the nurses finish wrapping his wrist. The pain was slowly going away but often time he wanted to flex his fingers only to find they were no longer there. It was heartbreaking knowing that he'd have to train himself anew because of his right hand being lopped off, by a woman no less.

By Queen Altria.

King Diarmuid had spoken often of his once queen and every tale inspired them. Oscar had never gotten the chance to meet the woman but by Diarmuid's word of mouth the queen seemed like a heavenly ruler that any knight would wish to serve themselves under. Even a lost hand seemed worth it just to face her in combat. She was an excellent fighter.

"I've never seen a woman so strong," Oscar admitted to his grandfather who sat next to his bed.

Captain Fionn nodded and thought back on the woman's fighting ability. "The shield maiden had used agility to make up for lack of muscle. Very effective on the battlefield."

"I never had gotten the chance to see her on the front," Oscar said while he rubbed the stub of his wrist. "What was she like, grandfather, in all her royal glory?"

Fionn went back in a time when the Isle War still raged on and both isles pushed at each other for supremacy. The first time he had seen the young queen was on the front alongside King Cormac. At first he had mistaken the woman for a man, but the slenderness of her body and the shortness of her height was of no mistaking a woman to be.

Her skill was so great that many had fallen under her blade. Often times she was separated from her knights; her guardians, but with ease and great control she fought back against the armies surrounding her and found her way back to her people. Such a feat for a woman that Fionn knew no other woman, be it past or future, would be able to compare to the likes of Queen Altria.

"Let me tell you this, Oscar," Fionn said, placing his hand upon his grandson's shoulder. "The fight you beheld between her and our king was not at its fullest."

"But she had beaten all of our knights," Oscar reminded. "And you tell me she was not at her best?"

"Inside that woman's chest rests the heart of a king," Fionn said. "Amazing, I know, but I have seen such a heart upon the battlefield during the Isle Wars, even King Cormac had seen it but still refused to surrender himself to a woman."

"Then our current king, Diarmuid, would he even be able to defeat her if she had fought her fullest?" Oscar asked, his heart sinking at the thought of this Queen Altria being so much stronger and her knights as strong as their kings.

"Do not count the king out of the ring just yet," Fionn said with a sigh. "Though he often does restrain himself and a heart of a servant still resides in his chest, the strength and fire of the people can press a kingly spirit about him. Without them he would certainly fall under that queen's blade. Becoming a king has changed his skill and strength and his own fight against her even I could tell he hadn't fought like he had when he defeated the 2,400."

Oscar smiled at the fact and nodded his head in pride of his king. It was true that the heart of a servant still resided in Diarmuid, but he still accepted the title of king. His heart did not sink at the fact of how weak their kingdom had become and how strong Queen Altria's kingdom was. It had been no wonder why they lost the Isle Wars, what with a ruler like Queen Altria and such strong knights like Diarmuid whom she had under her command all those years ago.

When the king had entered the room and asked upon Oscar's condition, suddenly, Oscar's wound began to hurt and he didn't know if it was the presence of the man making him feel shame for being so careless in a fight and losing his hand or just plain pity for not being able to wield a sword again.

"It still hurts?" Diarmuid asked as he watched the knight rub it.

Oscar smiled sadly and nodded his head. "It does, but it's getting better. Thank you for asking, my king. How fairs Queen Altria?" Both Oscar and Fionn watched their king's soft smile fade and turn into the likes of a frown. His eyes even darkened at the mere mentioning of her.

"She needs to be returned to her kingdom," Diarmuid stated as he paced the room.

Oscar had looked toward his grandfather whom only shook his head with a sigh.

"How?" Oscar asked. "You of all know that the court must see to her release. Sending her away would break our isolation."

Their king knew this, but still he had come before the royal court and asked them upon this matter, but their answers were the same as any individual he asked; it would result in a cancelation of their isolation. No ships were to dock nor leave and if the queen was to be returned then she would have to leave by ship.

As king, Diarmuid could exercise his rule and overturn the law for just her, but he feared the people's hearts and their reactions. He knew he shouldn't but he was the first and only king to care so much for the opinions of the people so why would he change for one woman? Because he loved her.

Diarmuid still loved Queen Altria to this day. He still longed to hold her in his arms like he used to do those dark nights when he and she would consummate their adultery. Even so Diarmuid had missed those nights and prayed often that God strike those sinful thoughts from his mind, but he was never so lucky with the King of Heaven.

Even with the woman so close to him, Diarmuid had never felt so far away. Imprisonment had gouged any feeling the queen might have carried for him out of her. Though no dungeons or jails she saw, the castle's east wing was her prison and ever she had longed to escape. Diarmuid could see it in the way she walked with the maids ordered to attend her needs, she hadn't been too kind to the women nor anyone she had come across and her attitude had pushed many away from her and Diarmuid's knights often wondered if she indeed was the famed Queen Altria they had all heard so well of.

It had been three weeks since Altria had stepped foot onto the isle, her wound was healing quite fast, so fast that she was becoming restless . . . and sad, so sad. It had broken Diarmuid's heart to see the woman like this and being powerless to do nothing the king only felt more horrid. He felt as if he were not fulfilling his role right in making everyone in his kingdom happy—Altria included since she was currently being forced to live in said kingdom.

Sometimes one couldn't please everyone and now Diarmuid knew how hard it had been for Altria to make such decisions because she was Queen and ruler of the land.

But Diarmuid knew of Altria's reason why she wanted so desperately to leave; she had left her heir with a husband who would see him dead. That heir just so happened to be Diarmuid's own son and even though he had never seen the child nor got to hear him speak he loved him all the same and wished him to grow and live a long and healthy life. He had never trusted King Gilgamesh with the safety of his queen and he most certainly wouldn't trust the foreigner with the safety of his child.

So stressed Altria had become that she refused to see Diarmuid any longer. She never vocally voiced it, but Diarmuid felt as if she blamed him for her imprisonment and despised his very presence because of so. This dampened his spirit and it affected the entire castle. Lady Gráinne had noticed it first and because of that she wished to solve the problem herself and so she took up the tray medicine offered to Altria's room by the healers and went in herself.

Diarmuid had not noticed the woman entering Altria's room nor had he noticed her lack of presence. His mind was fogged over with ill thought and so the lady easily crept in to see the Queen.

When Altria looked upon the brunette entering her room she noticed the lay of her clothing, much too fine to be a nurse and so she remained quiet until the woman placed the tray of medicine down by her bedside.

"Your medicine, my lady," Gráinne said as she moved away and awaited the queen to take it, but her green eyes were upon her, even as she did take up the cup and drink it.

After the cup was set down back upon the silver tray, Altria continued to stare at the woman before asking, "Why is it that a lady of the castle has entered my prison chambers?"

"The king has graced you, my lady, that you should not be placed in the dungeons with that foreign general and his men," Gráinne said, wishing the woman would see that her stay in the castle was not as bad as she made it out to be. "It's come to my mind that you wish to leave and forsake this land's laws. Just because you are queen of the kingdom who had defeated our own does not give you a right to set foot here and demand anything of this people or its king."

Gráinne watched the queen chuckle before shaking her head. She looked at her as if she had not known what she spoke of and it perturbed Gráinne to no end.

"Nobility," Altria scoffed. "You know nothing of what it takes to maintain a kingdom and to keep your throne."

"It has come to my knowledge that you had given up your kingdom," Gráinne said, narrowing her eyes at the woman. "Why does it matter to you any longer? King Diarmuid informed me how the current ruler despises you and would wish to be rid of you. If so then why not rejoice in your freedom? You have escaped an ill-gotten marriage. Any woman would gladly take praise to God above for that miracle."

"I may have given that man my kingdom, but the heart of my people still belongs to me to hold," Altria said as she looked down at her clasp hands. "Until death shall I be their queen, their ruler. Someone like you would not be able to understand."

"My father . . . King Cormac had once said the same . . . to a man such as Diarmuid Ua Duibhne," Gráinne said, glancing down and missing as Altria's eyes widened and beheld the form of the princess. "But now that Diarmuid is king the people are happy and the land bounteous. For someone who would never understand how to rule over a country he has become great in such a short amount of time."

Queen Altria had been silent as Lady Gráinne spoke and so in her silence Gráinne continued saying, "So I would wish his happiness above all else, as does the rest of this land. Ever since you came to this isle you have cast your cloud of darkness above our king. You may carry it with you always, but that gives you no right to thrust it upon our king."

"Since you seem so well informed then you must know that I am a mother and have left my children to journey here in hopes to gain information regarding this isle's isolation and then return to them. If my husband despises me then what should he do to a daughter I have born him as his heir?" Altria looked toward the woman who seemed only a few years younger than she. "What of the younger who had been promised to become my heir? When I bore a male child my husband despised him more."

Gráinne couldn't believe the dealings of that king that Altria said she had to put up with. Was this man really that horrid? She had heard stories of kings long past bearing such an attitude toward the people and their anger often resulted in mass slaughtering. For a moment Gráinne feared for Altria and her people but that fear was stayed in knowing that her king was strong and would never hand over rule to any evil man of that sort.

"I am sure you have trustworthy knights who can protect your children," Gráinne said. "If not then you should not have left."

"My husband was on the verge of going to war with your country had I not chosen to leave my children and travel here," Altria informed. "I often wonder if he still contemplates it. The growth of your naval ships disturbs him."

"He should mind his own business," Gráinne said, placing her fists on her hips. "He knows nothing of this kingdom and you don't either. Our ships have never outright attacked his ships patrolling our shores. We have better control over the naval fleets."

"I have been informed as to what happened to your country by your king, my apologies," Altria said but Lady Gráinne simply let out a sigh and found her anger of the woman slowly decreasing.

"No, it is not you who is to blame for that, but your foolish husband king. Being a woman of your strength and power I cannot see the reason why you wed such a man."

"Speak to your king about that issue," Altria said, laying herself down, trying to ignore the woman.

Lady Gráinne sighed once more and came close. She placed her hand upon Altria's shoulder and turned her to look upon her.

"No," the former princess said. "He is in much more need of your presence than mine." Another silence came over the women as Altria's gaze refused to look upon her, but Gráinne was persistent. "I do blame you for the downcast of his spirit but that would mean I will also assume you can right him."

"I do not wish to be near him," Altria said, turning her face away from the brunette once more.

Gráinne pursed her lips and puffed out a sigh of hot air. "Diarmuid never knew I had listened to him, but on and on he would tell the old farmer of how much he loved you and how much he would continue loving you because he knew in his own heart that you loved him back. What is this now? Have you changed? If so, then give me the keys to that man's heart so that I may love him properly as a lady should."

At least she got a reaction out of the queen. Instead of turning over and hiding her face again, the queen had sat herself up and narrowed her eyes. She seemed upset and so Gráinne continued though she knew she should stop. "I had come to him on a night, forsaking my husband for the warmth of his arms. It hurt my heart to know that that beautiful man could not feel for me because of a woman so loved by him long gone from his life. His fire used to always burn so bright and his smiles never ending. He's changed these last few years all because he had fallen in love with a hopeless woman!"

Altria should have felt appalled at all the insults thrown her way, but she accepted them in shame.

"Does . . . he still feel this way . . . toward me?" Altria asked, glancing down at her hands. Gráinne simply shook her head and rolled her shoulders. She knew the answer, but she was going to let the queen have it. She needn't receive things so easy all the time.

"Becoming a king had forced him to change his attitude greatly," Gráinne explained. "Much has changed about him, but so many a thing still remains. If you wish to find if his feelings burn for you as I once heard they did then you should see for yourself."

"I should not," Altria said, shaking her head. "Before, Diarmuid and I had been contempt in our adultery and it was God who tore us apart. This, as we see one another, has to be forgiveness. Possibly though . . . it is torture." Gráinne blinked in confusion before Altria's mood saddened and she closed her eyes tightly. "To be so close to the man I loved . . . to the man I still wrongfully love is nothing but torture. I want off this isle. I want to return to my children and I no longer wish to see Diarmuid again."

"Why are you denying yourself?" Gráinne asked, sitting down upon the bed and running her fingers through the queen's golden locks. "Is it a shame for a woman to desire a man?"

"It is when that woman is married to another," Altria said. "I had thought that because of Diarmuid's banishment the moments to come were blessings from above. I had given birth to a son and he was healthy. I named him my heir and my people accepted him. My husband no longer wished to be at my side and so I was blissfully left alone with my children while he remained with his own people. My loyal subjects were set to peace finally and so why was it not a blessing? No longer was I living in sin, remaining abstinent brought about the Lord's forgiveness but now . . . I no longer wish to stay away from him. I wish for him to hold me once more like he used to and to touch him with my bare hands and to kiss him with my own lips. Such sinful thoughts plague me of late. I need to return."

Gráinne nodded in understanding and felt for the woman. She remembered feeling the pull of sinful desire when she made to lay with Diarmuid. But Diarmuid had saved her from that blotch upon her soul. She never had thanked him for that—partly because she still despised him from pushing her affections away, but this queen, she was so broken and so sad that Gráinne could no longer stand the sight.

She rose from where she sat and offered a curtsy. "My condolence, your majesty, it does grieve my heart to see a woman so beautiful as yourself so sad. I cannot say what to do but I hope you the best in finding that answer."

When Gráinne left the room she took the tray with her and then closed the door quietly. Upon entering the hall she had noticed her king standing near, close to Altria's room. A hand was clenching the fabric of his shirt, right above his heart. She gasped silently, the queen had clenched at the same place when she spoke her innermost turmoil to her. Had Diarmuid heard everything? He must have.

"Diarmuid?" Gráinne asked, slowly stepping closer to the man. The moment she was just close enough to reach out her arm and touch the man, Diarmuid's eyes suddenly turned toward her. In those golden eyes was a great sadness compared only to the sadness Gráinne had seen within the queen. "Diarmuid," Gráinne called to the man but he was too distant from the world and so he pulled away from her and then left the hall never to be seen again.

Some time later, Gráinne had heard that their king had left the castle. It had been days since his departure and from his lack of presence the castle and its people seemed confused. Of course Gráinne would hear from the guards as to where Diarmuid was since his guard was near, watching his movements. She had known he would flee back to the farm and was no doubt annoying the old farmer as she thought on this.

Still she did not stop her visits with the queen and sometimes she would just sit in silence with her. After a while she had told Altria on Diarmuid's departure but not on the reason she suspected. No, she let the queen come to her own conclusions and she made sure that Diarmuid was always in thought. No matter what subject they spoke on, Gráinne always brought up her king in any way.

She could see the annoyance it caused for the queen but after two weeks, she seemed to have gotten used to it.

"Did you know," Gráinne began as she sat by Altria's bed and leisurely sewed on her project. "That Diarmuid had went before the royal court and asked them upon lifting their isolation just once to bring you back to your home?"

Altria, of course remained silent as ever, but Gráinne was a girl who grew up on silence. She knew how to treat these ones who have sealed their lips tight together.

"Of course you wouldn't know since you assume he has done nothing in helping you return," Gráinne continued with a soft smile. Sometimes it was quite fun to speak with the silent. "But holding the choice of the people above his own he decided to let them contemplate it. They still are, by the way, but with Diarmuid nowhere in sight they are reluctant to make a decision without him. As king he does have the right to lift the ban with his own power. I often wonder if he knows how to use it."

"Where is your king?"

Gráinne turned with a surprised gasp that Altria once again spoke to her. Taking in her state, Gráinne noticed how thin the woman looked. She knew she wasn't eating too much from the servants who fed her, but it wasn't just that, she looked worn. Bags under her eyes and a slump in her shoulders certainly didn't hail a queen-like presence. Something was eating its way out of the queen and she looked ready to give in.

With a smile Gráinne said, "At the farm where he first settled himself after returning to this land."

Without a word Altria stood herself up. Gráinne was surprised the woman could even hold herself up on legs laid in bed for over a month. This woman though, she was something else and her strength derived from the heavens and the Angels.

"Might I be so bold as to ask for a gown?" Altria asked, barely being able to look Lady Gráinne in the eye but the brunette just smiled and sat her work down before coming up to the queen and placing her hands upon her shoulders.

"No, you can have one of mine, though I'm not too certain if it should fit properly," Gráinne said, taking notice of how thin and small Altria was compared to her hourglass figure and plump breasts.

She did what she could though and even fixed the scarlet gown so to form fit the queen. When she had finished dressing her Gráinne had taken her to the court and begged them that she be granted to take the queen out for a good day's air. They had agreed but a guard was stationed around her and the queen. From there, Gráinne led the queen to where she knew Diarmuid was.

As they stood looking at the farm, Altria remained quiet. Gráinne said, "It's a decent sizable farm. Find our king if you can."

That had been all Gráinne said as she watched Queen Altria walk down the hill toward the wooden fence when she had ungracefully hopped over it and nearly tore Gráinne's dress. Ignoring her sudden possessive side, Gráinne watched as the sun set and the moon rose. She could see the guards around ready to follow the queen.

"Stay yourselves," Gráinne ordered. "You shan't think a woman to harm our king do you?" The shameful looks upon the guards' faces made Gráinne laugh but even so she was sad. She knew the two would come to terms with the other and form an understanding on the past couple of years. Diarmuid would never be hers . . . but at least he'd be happy.

* * *

"Hello, Diarmuid."

The man had nearly jumped to his feet as he turned in his seat upon the green grass and watched as Queen Altria approached him and sat herself down near him. He had opened his mouth to question her, but she beat him to it. "I wanted to see you," she said. "So I asked Lady Gráinne on your whereabouts. It looks as if she knows you well."

Diarmuid smiled before turning his gaze back up toward the shining stars. "Remember when we did this, Altria? Back in your kingdom."

"It had once been your kingdom as well, Diarmuid," Altria said with a sad smile before she too turned her head upward to gaze at the stars. Inwardly she wished the man still thought of her kingdom as his since he had belonged to it just as much as one native born.

Diarmuid simply smiled at her before looking toward the stars. "Those times I had never been more happy," Diarmuid admitted. "Even though I was sinning in the very face of God I was truly happy."

"Are you happy now?" Altria asked, looking at the man and finding a part of her soul lightening the more closer she sat to him.

Diarmuid smiled and chuckled shortly before he reached down and pulled at the grass beneath his foot. "No," he admitted and then looked at her with a frown. "An old friend's appeared before me and I don't know how to deal with their anger towards me."

_An 'old friend_,' Altria thought to herself, feeling her heart sink once again and now she felt as if to cry. Swallowing hard Altria fought back her nonsense tears and continued to look at her ex-knight. _So that's how he sees me now. I understand._

"Maybe this friend of yours was just so frustrated with the way events unfolded and how life seemed to torment her," Altria suggested with a small shrug as she brought her knees up toward her chest and played with the toes of her slippers that received decent green grass stains. "It often happens to a woman."

"Even a woman like yourself?" Diarmuid asked.

Altria smiled and nodded her head. "Lady Gráinne informed me that you came before your court and asked that they lift their isolation to return me to my home. I am glad for your help and more so at the heart you have for your people. Pressingly I am concerned for my children, especially our son, Diarmuid."

That had been the first time in a long while Altria had referred to her son as "ours" before Diarmuid and she watched his spirit lighten. She watched as the dark haired man cast his eyes down and then turned his face away, resting his chin on his arms that rested upon his knees.

"You may not know this, Altria, but I love our son just as much as you do. Granted I have never held him, never looked into his eyes, nor never gotten the blessing of hearing him speak but I do love him and would wish harm away from him."

Altria smiled and felt the familiar fluttering of her heart. She placed her hand above her heart and smiled so warmly that it had attracted even Diarmuid's golden gaze. He had stared at her for but a moment before his eyes fluttered away and even though it was night Altria could see a small blush upon the man's cheeks. It was nice that she could still make him blush.

"I had Lancelot and the others to swear to protect him should something dark befall my journey," Altria informed. "I do know that my men can protect him, but this heart of a mother shall not rest within me. I must see to my child's protection on my own."

"Then I shall continue to speak with the court," Diarmuid swore, turning to her and raising his fist in fealty. "But I shall not use my power as king to go against the people. Their last king had done this and nearly broke the land."

"I am glad that you honor such morals, Diarmuid," Altria said with a small nod and kind smile.

Diarmuid nodded himself and said, "I had heard you when you and Lady Gráinne conversed with one another. What you said about God's forgiveness, I believe you were right."

Altria's eyes widened and her lips parted. He had heard that? In fact that was around the time when the king had left his castle. She hadn't meant her words to be so hard but they were the truth she had come to.

"I admit it did hurt my heart to hear you say such words," Diarmuid said as he once again grasped the fabric of his shirt laying over his heart. "But I more than anyone needed to hear them. For so long I had longed for you, dreamt of your smiles, the feel of your hair, the touch of your skin. But now that I am a king I cannot dwell on your memory as much and I do thank God for giving me this and from what you believe it is His show of forgiveness for what we have done."

Shouldn't Altria's spirit feel lightened? Shouldn't an invisible weight be lifted from her heavy shoulders? After this confession and repentance she should feel free but now she felt as if Diarmuid was digging her very grave and Altria welcomed the cold ground and would gladly bid farewell to the world and its troubles.

Why still did she not feel better? She looked at Diarmuid and watched his saddened smile and wondered if the relief came to him. Altria fought with herself to keep her limbs from trembling. She felt hurt, everywhere and her heart paid the most price.

Reaching out, Altria cupped the man's face and pulled him to her where she kissed his brow one last time. The feel of his skin against hers brought a small comfort to her soul, but the notion of its last feel pained Altria to the ends of the world.

"Then rest assured in your forgiveness," Altria whispered before she closed her eyes and then rested her forehead against Diarmuid's. She remained there for but a moment before she opened her eyes and found Diarmuid leaning in closer, raising his chin so that his lips may touch hers. Altria had pulled herself away and clutched her breast.

A fire, there was a fire licking at her insides threatening to burn her whole. It was the flames of Hell and Altria watched as Diarmuid himself came to his senses and made to back himself away from her as well, but remained still. His own hand clutched his breast before his eyes closed in grief.

"If only I could bask in the grace of the Lord's forgiveness," Diarmuid said, his words were near sobs as he shook his head and bowed himself before Altria in despair. Altria reached out to touch him, but stopped and stayed her hand. The fire inside her own self worsened when she touched him and so she bid it cease before she die.

"What do you think . . ." Altria began and watched as Diarmuid rose his head, that beautiful face of his stained with bitterness and grief, but in his eyes was a fire and an unmistaken amount of want. "What do you think would be stripped away if we forsake this forgiveness and sin once more?" Altria could not stop the tears from falling nor the trembles of her body. "Diarmuid," she cried out as the man reached out to touch her cheek. "I want to be so far from you, so far. That way I can no longer want you."

Diarmuid's hand fell from her face and he bowed there, looking like one defeated and ready for death. Altria sat there as well and wished to bid her legs to stand and leave, but even in this heartache, Diarmuid's presence felt better than a guard around her.

Suddenly, Diarmuid began to speak saying, "I have lost so much more than you, Altria, but I don't care. Let God throw his curses upon me and upon this land if only I could hold you once more!"

Then he took her into his arms and kissed her hard. Altria was too weak to push or pull away and his kiss had been how she always dreamed it would be. The passion had not changed in the years they had been apart and all Altria wanted to do was to love him and for him to love her.

Her own spirit returned to her and Altria pressed back against her lover and took his hand and placed it upon her breast so that he may remember that her body was his and will always be. Diarmuid accepted her offering and pressed her down into the soft grass. There he held her and kissed her until they both could breathe no more.

The passion rising inside the both of them rushed them so much that there were no gazes. They no longer pulled away and looked each other in the eyes. There weren't even brief pauses between their kisses. They simply clung to the other and kissed until they could feel the other's soul from within.

The time spent apart had created a longing so starved of the other's presence that their limbs tangled themselves into their lovers'. Fingers pulled at locks of hair and teeth bit at swollen red lips. Hips ground against the other and thighs rubbed abdomens.

The Fire burning inside was so hot it was white and the cold night air around them seemed of little concern to the two lovers who held each other under the starry sky and rekindled that passion that had never really gone away. The grass underneath was cold and Diarmuid had come to this conclusion as he had grabbed a handful of Altria's skirt and pulled it above her thighs. Her pale skin against the grass had made her shiver but she had yet to voice any complaints. Diarmuid knew she wouldn't but he didn't wish for her to chill against the grass and so with haste he picked her up and held her close in his arms.

Altria had not stopped kissing Diarmuid as the man picked her up and darted down the hill with her in his arms. She had hooked her ankles tightly together and wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers still danced in his unruly locks and often pulled to get the man to open his mouth so that she may have a chance to greet that warm muscle within. In their flight Diarmuid had almost stumbled and fallen over, ready to quit on his rush to a structure, but he refrained himself and made it to the barn where he laid his lover down upon the hay-covered floor and there he settled himself between her thighs and kissed her once more.

The barn offered shelter from the cold night air but this certainly was no ideal place to make love. The two had neither cared of that thought when Altria let Diarmuid raise her skirt once more and press close to her. It had been so long since Altria had been so close to her lover, so long and so she let all her passion escape her body and held tight to the man above her, kissing her, loving her.

Their first coupling had gone by in such a blur that their second time hadn't even been recognized until the two lay close to one another, panting and then Altria watched as Diarmuid closed his eyes and bit his lip. A sob escaped his throat and tears began to fall down, so Altria took him into her arms and kissed him.

Softer, so much softer this time as Altria laid above the man and rid herself of her gown, baring her body before him and letting him touch her in assurance of this reality. Altria this time had shown her still lingering love for her Diarmuid. Reaching down she cupped his face and pulled him close so that they may kiss. When the man wrapped his arms around her hips and clung tightly Altria kissed him deep and wept her own tears throughout the night.

When the early hours of morning arose, the two, still quite restless arose and returned themselves to the castle. There they bathed together and in the tubs held one another in a passionate embrace. For four days the two remained within the confines of the king's chamber, even keeping the servants baring food at bay.

They had been four years absent the other, four short days could never make up for the time missed and longing to return to the other's embrace but the passion was greater than ever. Often times Diarmuid feared that he might burn his love alive with the fire within him, but Altria had accepted them as part of her own flame and was not hurt by the man's rough touches and bites.

Also, in that Diarmuid was exhausted, Altria's spirit sparked to life once more and urged her lover to lie atop her. The two had completed the other and felt no shame, both welcoming God's wrath as they consummated their adultery over and over. Their spirits even satisfied with the other surely brought upon the greatest of sins.

Now the two lay close to the other in Diarmuid's bed, the sheets long since forgotten lay upon the floor. The fireplace already spent since the first day and the refusing of servants to enter saw that the fire died, but the two were warm in the others embrace. The fire within their own bodies sated them and they basked in this softly glowing and tamed fire.

Diarmuid leaned over and kissed his lover upon her thin neck before moving up to her jaw and kissing her once more. Altria simply closed her eyes and let out a relieved sigh. The weight was indeed gone and her spirit finally at ease now that she was back where she belonged; in the arms of Diarmuid.

"My heart has settled within my chest," Altria said as she moved Diarmuid's hand currently laid about her round hip up toward her breast to feel the soft beating of her heart. Then Diarmuid took Altria's hand and kissed her fingers before pulling her hand and placing it upon his own chest so that she may feel his heartbeat as well, in sync with her own.

"We are the same," Diarmuid said with a soft smile as he pulled her close to his chest and felt her soft body.

"Then this should not be a sin," Altria said as she rose her hands and patted her lover's sharp face. "I'm afraid I can never stop loving you, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, not even if God Himself commanded me."

"I can assure you the feeling is mutual, Altria Pendragon," Diarmuid said as he leaned down and kissed her close.

* * *

**TheThirdTime'sACharm: Well . . . looks like those two can't keep their hands off each other for long (hence why little Erin was born) ;) Hope you enjoyed and leave your thoughts in a comment please. They compel me to update :D Much love!**


	11. Farewell My Lover

**TheThirdTime'sACharm: Wow, thanks so much for the reviews, guys. I loved everyone's thoughts and love! Here's another chapter for you to enjoy, thanks!**

* * *

It was no secret that King Diarmuid had taken to himself the foreign queen as his lover. In fact, most of the castle knew of his affair with the same woman which ultimately ended in his banishment from her kingdom because of her husband. No one had come to the king and spoke their dislike because Diarmuid was king and it wasn't uncommon for a king to have mistresses.

But no king had ever been so true to a "mistress" before and their relationship was by far peculiar. None had ever seen their king so in love and having her near lightened his spirit and suddenly the castle seemed to shine brighter with their presence.

Now, even their king was at peace. Even so Diarmuid annoyed the guard to no end with his sudden joyrides all of which happened to involve the queen. One day he had brought her back to the farm and had her meet the old farmer.

"My, ye's as beautiful as Diarmuid explained ye to be," the old man said with a toothless grin and Altria blushed.

"I am no liar, old man," Diarmuid said with a smile as he gazed at Altria with free and open love.

"You have my gratitude, good sir, for housing and caring for Diarmuid," Altria said. "He means a lot to me."

"So I've heard," the man said, once again chewing on the butt of his pipe. "By the way, how be your son?"

Sure Altria was having the time of her life in the kingdom with Diarmuid as her official lover once more, but the mention of her son, the one most in danger had brought up those nagging fears. Diarmuid seemed to notice this and quickly flung his cloak around her shoulders and then held her close.

"He's safe with trusted friends," Diarmuid informed. "But I do believe it's about time you show this queen your vegetable patches. He always brags about them." Altria giggled and watched the old man get up on thin legs and then step off the porch.

And so Altria was treated to a tour of the farm that Diarmuid had made his home after his banishment. Most of the fields were still treated by the king himself and so when the old farmer offered a basket full of turnips they couldn't deny it. Altria just surprised the kitchen with fresh turnips was all.

Still, that night while Diarmuid was changing he had noticed Altria's dampened mood. She was sitting upon his bed, combing her hair with less vigor than usual.

Coming up to her while he was in the middle of putting on a light shirt Diarmuid asked her, "Still concerned for Erin?"

"He's still so little, Diarmuid," Altria said, placing her comb down in her lap and nearly falling off the edge of the bed. "I know he's crying for me this instant, I can feel it."

"I'm sure any mother could feel the tears of their child," Diarmuid said as he placed his hand atop the queen's trembling ones. "Regretfully I do not have such a connection."

Altria looked and noticed the sad regret in Diarmuid's eyes as he cast them down. So she tightened the grip he had on her hand and smiled encouragingly up at him. "When this kingdom's isolation ends I will bring him to see you."

"Have you told him about me yet?" Diarmuid asked as he sat down next to the queen.

Altria let out a sigh and shrugged her shoulders. "When he was a babe I would let him sleep against my breast while whispering tales of his father. It had calmed him but now that he is older and no longer seeks his mother's lap to rest on he doesn't even care for the tales of his father. When his interest arises I shall tell him."

Diarmuid smiled and hugged his lover close. That night they slept side by side and both dreamed of the little boy whom they prayed was safe even though they knew God would no longer hear the prayers of two sinners.

* * *

"She won't admit it, but she misses her brother," Elaine said as she finished unpacking her belongings after a short stay at the castle to see the princess. Lancelot smiled and turned toward Prince Erin who was currently playing with his own son, Galahad.

Lady Elaine turned and watched the two boys. She smiled when her son got up suddenly and darted outside with the prince following his companion. Following the boys, Elaine and Lancelot walked outside and watched the leaves begin to fall off the trees, it was a sign that the season was changing.

"It's hard to believe another year has gone by so fast," Elaine said, taking in the cool breeze of the new season. "Our queen's not graced us with her presence for three months now."

"At ease, wife," Lancelot said with a sigh. "Even if that woman found herself in the very pits of Hell I know she would make an attempt at escape."

"Often my mind wanders," Elaine said, finding the stone bench near the back entrance to sit herself and watch the boys run around the trees and field. "Sometimes it wanders to thoughts of our Queen's demise and in how she met her end. Sometimes it wanders into thoughts of a paradise created for her. I wonder sometimes if she has not found a land of promise and peace where she could escape her harsh life. God knows that woman has had the most strife out of all of us."

"It would be a wondrous dream for our queen," Lancelot said as he decided on standing near his wife and watching the boys along with her. "I wish I knew the certainty of her safety."

Elaine looked toward her husband and then reached out the touch the fabric of his tunic. He turned to her and watched her smile softly but sadly. "I wish so as well," she said before her eyes turned once again toward the young prince. "Because I do not want to be there when Prince Erin forgets the very image of his own mother."

Prayers and hope was all they had and they used every last ounce of it to offer to God in hopes that He would return their queen whether from imprisonment or Hell. They hoped He would return her quickly.

* * *

"It is regrettable that you have lost your hand, but I will not ask forgiveness for what I have done," Altria stated as she sat upon a wooden bench out looking the barracks and the training ground. The sun was shining and the weather was pleasant if not a little chilly, but Diarmuid's knights were all out with sword in hand ready to practice their skills with the king. Altria just sat by and watched as Diarmuid took them down one by one.

The handicapped knight, Oscar, one of Diarmuid's close friends, had come up alongside her to watch and Altria felt a pity at the show of longing in his eyes. But this was the way of a warrior and one never knew when their life could end within the blink of an eye. Even so, the knight had smiled at her and inclined his head.

"My thanks," he said. "I do not wish your pity to staunch my honor."

Altria smiled back before both turned at the sound of a loud grunt. Diarmuid had just grabbed a knight's arm and flung him over his back and onto the rough ground. The knight had lost his breath and for a moment he struggled to breathe before Diarmuid reached out his hand and pulled him up. With a pat on the back the knight was off to get into the line of knights awaiting their one-on-one sparing match with the king they so idolized.

"Did you know King Cormac never once sparred with his knights?" Altria turned and watched Sir Oscar continue to watch Diarmuid train with his men who often pointed out the flaws in their strikes and maneuvers, but more often praising their steadfastness and courage.

"A distant king is a foolish king," Altria said and Oscar looked at the woman who straightened herself in her stance with that statement.

"An old proverb where you come from?" Oscar inquired. Altria just nodded.

"No, it's my beliefs," she stated. "But I know it is not just my own. Many of my people share this opinion. What of you, Sir Knight?"

Oscar let out a sigh before leaning back against the post constructed near the bench. "I had served King Cormac all of my life and now that Diarmuid is king I have only come to serve him for but the few years of his reign, but even so . . . in those few years I have never seen a king so noble as Diarmuid. He bonds with both noble knight and lowly peasant. I am sure you would have never thought that one of your humble knights would take up throne here."

"I do admit that I would have never imagined such a day," Altria said with a soft smile as she once again looked upon her lover who was now tackling the task of sparring with two knights at once. His training techniques had not changed but they had always been effective. In no time, Diarmuid would perfect the skills of each individual knight based on what their preference of weapon was. "As long as the people do not despise him then I cannot say anything ill toward his reign. He has always been a good man and I know he shall be the best king this land has ever seen."

"The people believe the same," Oscar informed before he groaned and rubbed his stub. Altria noticed that every now and then the man would ache from the wound. With a sigh she stood up and then walked over to the bucket of wooden swords and picked two up. She turned and held out a sword to the knight who looked at her quizzically. "Take sword, Sir Knight, and spar with me," she said when she about forced the sword into the knight's left hand.

Oscar looked down at the beaten wooden object and then at the sword in Altria's hand. He was surprised to find she too held her weapon in her left hand.

"Why are you doing this?" Oscar asked, astonished and amazed by the woman's spirit, especially her honor for the knights. The queen simply smiled before she raised the wooden sword and moved closer to the knight where she tapped him on the shoulder with the wooden blade.

"Keep up, Sir Knight, you shan't let a _girl_ defeat you would you?"

Oscar had let out a hardy laugh before he held his sword close and danced around the queen before trying to strike her. Altria moved out of the way and met his weapon with her own. She noticed the lack of force he pressed against her, but she realized it was because he was a right-handed man, but so was she.

Once again Altria struck Oscar on the shoulder. She watched the knight's face redden in frustration. He had shaken his head before trying again. After Altria had struck him three more times the knight tossed his sword to the ground. "I cannot fight left-handed!" he shouted before falling onto the wooden bench and throwing his face into the palm of his only hand. Altria had never seen someone so emotionally, spiritually, and physically defeated.

She gazed at the knight's pitiful display for some time before she knelt down and picked up the weapon and placed it upon his lap, this seemed to anger the knight even more.

"Are you deaf?" Oscar asked, his red face now full of annoyance. "I cannot hold a sword with my left."

"It just takes practice," Altria said, smacking him upon the shoulder continuously to get him to spar with her again. "Come, spar with me."

"No," Oscar said and kept on saying that one word until Altria's smacks from her wooden sword became too much and he took up his wooden sword laid upon his lap and smacked her in the thigh. It had surprised him that he was reacting so quickly out of annoyance and frustration but as he looked up toward the queen she was just smiling.

"Motivation," Altria stated. "It's the only thing you'll ever need if you wish to guard your king alongside your brethren."

"Why are you trying to help me?" Oscar asked, so confused by this strange woman. "You are not my queen and I am not your knight. Why should you care if I stumble or if I fall?"

"Because the pride of every knight resides within my heart," Altria said as she touched her chest. "I hold great honor for those who stand and fight to protect. I can see your spirit as a knight has not faded. Even with one hand you can protect, Sir Oscar. I believe in you and so does your king." Altria turned her head to watch Diarmuid still sparing with the remaining knights who would accept his challenge, the others already beaten took to the fences to watch him.

Turning once more back toward the knight Oscar, Altria smiled and backed away to give the man room to stand. "Now," she said, raising her sword once more. "Show this humble warrior that spirit!"

Oscar had smiled and did rise to meet her challenge. The more they practiced the more Oscar had grown comfortable with the blade in his left hand; soon he was striking Altria across her shoulder. Their spar had caught the attention of the other knights. They were amazed at their brother's return of spirit. They all had seen him downcast but now he was lively once again.

Diarmuid had noticed this as well as his men flocked over toward Altria and Oscar. When he came close to the circle to behold what they were watching he smiled proudly when he watched his lover take strike after strike from his wounded knight, encouraging his spirit to once again be set ablaze for his knighthood.

"Why is she doing this?" "Why does she concern herself with a knight not her own?" "What kind of a queen is this woman?" Diarmuid heard everything his men were whispering amongst themselves; everything they were saying about Queen Altria. He had first thought they would scorn her for striking a wounded soldier when his spirits were already down, but their sudden encouraging shouts brought Diarmuid out of those dark thoughts.

"Come on, Oscar!" "Keep your balance!" "She's dropped her sword, strike her!" The encouraging shouts were for Oscar to strike Altria as many times as he could while keeping an unbalanced grip upon his wooden sword. Diarmuid could see that even Altria was having a hard time holding her weapon in her left hand, but she had always been of good sport and cheer and though humiliating with how many times she had dropped her weapon, she did not stop the match.

In the end Altria had indeed landed more strikes upon Oscar than he her, but the match was close and Oscar couldn't help but laugh. "Perhaps another match tomorrow?"

Altria nodded and smiled back. "I would be honored, Sir Knight."

And they did and now, instead of sparring matches with the king, the knights would gather round and watch as the foreign queen and their brother in arms, Oscar, would fight with those wooden swords in their left hands. Before long Oscar had gotten good at holding it in his left grip, so much so that Altria had to revert back to holding her blade in her right hand to match the man in the ring.

After Oscar had improved to a certain degree, the other knights had wished to spar with the queen. Their king, Diarmuid, had warned them how vicious Altria could be but they did not heed his warning and so proceeded to beat her in training as Oscar had done at times, but Altria never let a single man win. She had bested them all but laughter came from it and in that a bond was formed.

The knights of the kingdom had not known it at the time, but their hearts had been captured by this queen who carried a knight's heart within her as well. They felt she were of kindred spirit to them even though she was queen of a foreign nation. Diarmuid had quite enjoyed the fact that his men took to her and now, when he dined with his knights he would hear, "'Tis no wonder why our king had sworn himself to that lady. She be made of fine material." "Agreed. I have never beheld a shield maiden nor heard of one as Queen Altria." "That woman holds much honor within her and now doubt much honor is given to her."

When Diarmuid returned to his chambers to inform his lover on the turning of his men she would only smile and shrug her shoulders. She knew neither where that spirit of leadership came from nor why it still remained even though she no longer had any rights to a throne. But it still never stopped Diarmuid's amazement.

"If I could rule like you, Altria," Diarmuid said as they laid together in bed, holding the other close and just enjoying their presence together. "Why, I would have conquered the world."

"Rule as _you_ would, Diarmuid," Altria bade and cuddled herself closer to his chest where her arms were currently wrapped around. "You people love you just the same."

"How fairs the kingdom?" Diarmuid asked, knowing in his heart that her people were very unhappy with the current ruler. Of course they would be. Altria had been their best ruler until she handed her kingdom over to a foreigner who cared little for the people of the land. Any people would find themselves upset with the unfair predicament.

Altria let out a sigh and shook her head, listening to the soft rhythm of Diarmuid's heartbeat for a moment before saying, "The people continue to hate King Gilgamesh. His upset has spread throughout the kingdom and because of this he does not keep close control on his men, therefore they often stray from their regiments and harass townsfolk and the poor peasants. I am powerless to do anything for they are not my men but their king too busy to deal with their misbehaviors."

"It's a shame you had let go of your throne so easily," Diarmuid said as he leant down and kissed his love upon the brow. Altria only smiled back up at him.

"For my first knight, I would give up anything, even my own life," She said as she leaned herself up as well and kissed him gently upon his lips.

The two stayed in that moment for but a little while. Letting the softness of the kiss help in their escape from reality to a world all their own: a pretty little isle big enough for a horse ride around the entirety of it but small enough for one home and one family—their home, their family.

When they pulled away, Diarmuid smiled and pulled the woman close once more. They spent most of their time together in the other's arms and in that Altria forgot that she was a married woman. She forgot about a king named Gilgamesh, forgot about his foreign armies and countless ships. No, now she remained in the moment and though the worry of her child still rose to alert her she found herself content with her lover whom she wished to spend the rest of her life with.

Four months now, the autumn season had swept over the land and so was the time of harvest. So, King Diarmuid left the castle for a few weeks to the farm to help the old man. Now that he was king most of his knights went with him and offered their help, Lady Gráinne had accompanied Queen Altria and offered her a room in her second home that resided close to the farm. That way the two women would take their ladies in waiting and come to the farms to watch the men take up scythes and harvest in the crops.

Because of so many noble gathered together on the farm the shore-town close by had sent out many a people to come and offer food. Soon enough a banquet was held and even a festival. The farm was large enough and held it fair. The people of the town mostly gave gifts to the old farmer who also in turn received them from the king and his knights.

The festival was a good get-together and most spoke of their hopes to have it again the next year. Of course the old man said, "Just as long as my crops are harvested." In turn everyone laughed and on that night Queen Altria came to become introduced to the populace.

At first the people were not too kind to her even though they had known she was their king's lover, but after she shamelessly took part in the activities and games of the festival their hearts were stolen. She had reminded them of their king and soon adopted the woman as their own as if she had been born on the isle like Diarmuid.

After that night many of the towns requested Altria's presence and she often came when she could, mostly escorted by the king himself. In this Altria had gotten to see more of the isle and its people both old and young and she couldn't help but love them.

"They are a good people, Diarmuid," Altria said after she had sent a little girl off after braiding her hair like her own as the little one had asked of her.

Diarmuid who had been sitting next to her only shook his head. "They are," he said. "In the beginning they were a broken people but now, with their spirits so bright one doesn't even recollect the notion of night. Only day fills their hearts and it makes me as well as this kingdom very happy and proud."

"The progress I have seen is amazing, Diarmuid," Altria said as she looked at the newly erected buildings all white and shining in the sunlight. "This is my first time to this kingdom and I admit that I had never seen it when King Cormac ruled, but I like this envision, this," with that she outstretched her arms and motioned toward the gorgeous town, "is how this kingdom was and will remain."

"I too am glad you've seen the kingdom like this as now," Diarmuid said, frowning at the remembrance at what King Cormac had plunged this land into. "King Cormac had forgotten about his people and the heart of the land after the Isle Wars. I was born here and raised here before I left to find your services. This kingdom was once great and now I hope to return it back to its original splendor."

"What of now?" Altria asked. "Is it not how you remember it?"

Diarmuid smiled. "It really is the people that rule the kingdom, without them this country wouldn't have healed so fast. As I sit here now, with you, I am proud to say this kingdom is everything I've dreamed it could be if not more."

"More so than my own?" Altria asked with a playful smile. She chucked when Diarmuid blushed but motioned him to be silent. "I am only jesting. Though, I do have to admit this place, the land, the towns, the city, your castle, the shores—they're so beautiful and quiet. Never once have I seen a brawl among neighbor, not even in the taverns. I don't know how you did it, Diarmuid, but you've accomplished something I so desperately wish for my own isle."

"You had it once, Altria," Diarmuid said as he placed his hand upon Altria's hands clasp together in her lap. "The peace of soul and heart you did have once, after the Isle Wars. Even though a quarrel among foreigners often arose when they tried swarming the beaches we, the people and the queen, we were all bonded and there was a peace."

"But I gave it all up," Altria said, dwelling on her own shortcomings once more. "I ask myself over and over again, every night before I lay my head down to rest if I had done the right thing. Often times I doubted my own decision but in the end I am happy that it saved your life and through that," Altria turned her face toward Diarmuid and smiled softly but so bittersweetly, "A love arose between us and if that love had never existed from your lack of life then our son, Erin, would have never been able to meet this world."

"Erin." Diarmuid smiled fondly at the mention of his child and his hands squeezed tighter. "I do so wish to see him."

"I know," Altria said as she placed one of her own hands upon Diarmuid's this time and squeezed in comfort. "I know that words are not enough for a lonely father. I wish with all my heart that you could see him." The pain in Diarmuid's eyes and the frown upon his lips upset Altria and so she raised her hand and caressed his face. "You know he looks so much like you? His hair as dark as yours," with that her hand rose to run her fingers through Diarmuid's locks and then play with that stubborn strand falling before his face, "The shape of his face is much similar to your own," now her hands came down to rub the king's jaw and then she moved down and clasped his hands, "and his hands hold onto things so tightly, much like his father. His spirit is so adventurous that I am sure he will not stay with me in my home for long. Another thing he takes after his father."

"I have heard," Diarmuid began as he rose his hands and let his thumbs caress underneath Altria's eyes. "That his eyes are the very same emeralds as his mother's, and that he's such a quick learner that he will not doubt make the wisest of rulers someday."

Altria smiled sadly and then glanced down. "It has been hard, Diarmuid . . . raising him without you. This time, with Erin, I wanted to raise him instead of the wet-nurses and the maids. I wanted to be there when he first crawled, when he first walked, when he first spoke. But it was hard because he looked so much like you and would never let me forget the face of his father."

"I wished I was there for those moments as well, Altria," Diarmuid said as he pulled the woman to him. "But I am glad that at least you were blessed with his growing. I am glad that God had not taken him from us or you from him. I am glad that at least his mother he will remember."

"I have sworn that he will know his father," Altria said. "Perhaps on the day he leaves me will he come here and see you. I shall make sure he knows your name, and I shall make sure he knows of your reign. And I shall make sure he knows of your love for him."

"When this isle's isolation ends I will come to you and Erin," Diarmuid swore. "Believe in me."

Altria nodded and hugged the man close. But even so, Altria feared she would never be able to leave the isle along with Diarmuid and so now she prayed for her son to grow fast and his spirit long for travel so that he may come and see his parents.

Her prayers often revolved around the protection of her son. Begging that God save the innocent and keep him safe and that the Lord above let the boy grow in stature and strength so that he be strong enough to defend himself from those seeking his harm. Altria knew that Lancelot and the others would not always be able to be there for him and so she begged her god to protect him and to bless her son with as many guardian Angels as He could spare. Of course her prayers ended darkly upon realizing that the King of Heaven probably no longer listened to her prayers being that she continued in her adultery and neglected the conviction of His spirit.

Altria dreamt of the day that their entire family be reunited, she, her son, and Diarmuid. The vision of such brought tears to her eyes but she kept her hopes small so that they might not crush her in the future should they prove vague. She missed her daughter as well and often wondered how the girl's father was treating her. Her concern for her daughter was not as great as it was for her son. Altria knew that Gilgamesh would no doubt ignore his daughter and in that it brought about her safety and no doubt Gawain was watching over the girl with his men like he swore he would do if anything should happen to her upon her flight to the neighboring isle.

Still, her most loyal and strong men were no match for Gilgamesh's large army and so she prayed for their safety just as much as her children's and hoped above all hopes that the foreign king forget their existence like he was so prone to doing to those he despised. She knew that her prayers were indeed the same as Diarmuid's as the two would kneel down upon the alter every morning before beginning their day.

Altria had glanced over to the king once and found his eyes open though he looked to be in prayer. He had noticed her as well and so his golden gaze turned to her and Altria saw the weariness in his eyes. He was tired of praying to a god he knew would no longer hear him. It had saddened Altria's heart to see this, especially when he finished his prayers early that morning and left Altria in silence.

She hadn't needed to approach the man about the issue because she already knew what was in his heart. To a certain extent Altria wished she too could quit on the god she had been born to hail, but she never had that kind of a courage. To her it was disrespect to forget the god of her ancestors no matter the troubles, no matter if she had spit in His face. So she continued to pray prayers for her men and children and her country and the people therein.

It had grown lonesome kneeling at the alter every morning by herself now and so her prayers were hindered with the thoughts of her lover and his wellbeing. Diarmuid had only abandoned the alter and the church, never Altria. The subjects of God and His Angels became bitter to Diarmuid and so Altria never spoke to him any longer of the prayers she pleaded every morning.

Five months. Altria had been keeping track of the time and ever her heart longed to hold her children once more. They must have grown so much in her absence, they were always fast growers and so she knew in her heart that they were getting taller. She wanted to see their faces so earnestly that her prayers became fervent and long but alas there was not yet an answer to any of them—not that she had expected an answer for her prayers in the first place.

But one day, when the winds were cold and the leaves had all fallen off the trees Altria believed that a possible answer from on high had been sent when a patrolling ship of Diarmuid's had been attacked and sunk, the entire crew drowned. She knew it was horrible to say that such a happening was a sign from the Lord of Heaven but the rest of the events to occur made Altria believe it more and more.

What had happened was a ship had been turned away with a warning like usual, but this ship returned and by law the patrol ship was to destroy the disobedient vessel. Instead the ship had turned out to be a war galleon in disguise and when it showed them its cannons it was too late, the patrol ship was destroyed. Now this ship did not dock upon the island, but simply turned away.

Before word could get out, this happened to two other ships, both of which sank, but half of one crew managed to survive. Altria had never seen Diarmuid so upset, especially when they had found it was King Gilgamesh's ships.

Over the next couple of weeks this had been happening but less of Diarmuid's ships were tricked by this folly and they managed to bring down a few ships themselves, but the attacks were confusing and the ships never invaded the land, simply cut the number of ships Diarmuid had. It was so confusing that neither Diarmuid or the generals knew how to handle such attacks.

In the end at least 16 of Diarmuid's ships had sunk and 4 were damaged and already in the shipyard being repaired. Because of this Diarmuid would go to bed upset and angry and nothing Altria did could comfort him. She wished she knew the mind of her husband, but she feared she didn't enough.

Tensions arose in the kingdom and most could feel it within the castle and especially with the king, but Diarmuid was in no way losing grip of his power, he was just confused with the odd attacks and upset with the loss of his loyal men and ships. They would replace the ships in time and they had more than enough ships to spare, but Diarmuid treasured every vessel and life more than anything.

One night, when Diarmuid had laid his head down to sleep he found himself wide away, simply staring at the ceiling. The unease was so unsettling that Altria had woken next to him and touched his side. "Diarmuid?" he asked, concern in her voice. "You have not slept for days; please lay you head back down."

"Is this war, Altria?" Diarmuid asked, his tired eyes so wide continued to stare up at the ceiling. "I have spoken with my advisors and the council and the royal court but none of us can find the answer to what he wants with this kingdom."

"Diarmuid," Altria said, lowering her voice a bit. "I have been in thought myself but I warn you that I do not know that man any more than I know the depth of the sea, but he could possibly just be cutting your ships to a number he approves of."

"Why do you think that?" Diarmuid asked as he turned to his lover while she sat herself up and pulled his head in her lap to comb his hair and caress his scalp so that his tense muscles may relax. Altria smiled and said, "Before I had left he had called me to him so that I may offer information upon the ruler of this isle. I had not known you were king at the time and so I had assumed King Cormac to still hold rule and the building of all those ships were preparations of war. King Gilgamesh was concerned at the speed of the construction and that all of these ships were indeed war ships. He did not want to admit the ships came close in number to his own."

"I had never taken the time to count that king's fleet and I remember once being so happy to have that man and his ships as our ally," Diarmuid said while Altria nodded in remembrance.

"Aye, I remember your enthusiasm well."

Diarmuid let out a chuckle before shaking his head and saying, "If I had only known."

The two shared a brief fit of laughter before Diarmuid's eyes began to close. "Altria," he whispered out as he slowly drifted off into slumber.

"Yes, my love?" Altria asked as she watched him open his eyes one last time and smile up at her.

"You know I love you, right?" Altria nodded and then he closed his eyes. "If this continues then I will lift this isolation, but I'm afraid it will not be to return you." Altria frowned and let Diarmuid continue. "If I must destroy King Gilgamesh's fleet then I will but know that if this should happen I will not know how that king should react."

Altria understood now. With his fleet, King Gilgamesh ruled the land and the sea, but without it he would likely lose so much power that he'd become paranoid of losing his throne and thus begin eliminating anyone who threatened him in any way. With a frown, Altria looked down at her lover. He was right and now Altria became more afraid.

Leaning down, Altria whispered the man's name saying, "Diarmuid." He only 'hm'ed in response and then she asked, "Would you mind I take a ship and return to my kingdom myself?"

Opening one eye Diarmuid smiled and looked up at her. "As long as you take me with you."

Altria let out a laugh and shook her head. "A king belongs with his kingdom."

She watched the man shrug before saying, "It was worth a try." He then reached up and touched her face. "I'll make it to where you'll have a crew to return you. The tensions with King Gilgamesh's ships will blind anyone from your departure."

"Thank-you, Diarmuid," Altria said before kissing him softly. "Sleep in peace. Tomorrow will take all of your energy with deciding on where to take your kingdom."

"Hm, you would know," Diarmuid said with a chuckle before falling into slumber.

Altria was now restless and so she continued to run her fingers through her lover's hair and fall into her own thought. Before she knew it the night had faded and a new day had come. A day full of tensions and possibly hard decisions. She knew that thanks to the support of the people, Diarmuid would be fine but contemplating an escape and commandeering a ship would be a little challenging, especially with the king focused on more important matters.

On that day, Altria sat patiently outside of the meeting hall knowing that her presence was not allowed since she was still counted as a prisoner. She offered her prayers for Diarmuid's voice to stay strong and for his feet to be set deep in his ideals as he allowed the court their voices and possibly their decision on the matter.

"What that king has done has blindly stated a declaration of war," Diarmuid said as he sat upon his throne and looked at his advisors, his knights, the nobles, and council; his royal court.

"Are you suggesting we heed the call and go to war, my king?" a councilman spoke up and Diarmuid let out a sigh.

"I am not," Diarmuid said. "I would rather keep my kingdom in remaining peace considering what the last war did to you." There was a short silence in remembrance of the Isle Wars, the hardest the kingdoms had ever remembered, but Diarmuid broke the pending silence by saying, "All I want is for that man to stop. For years tensions have arisen. Just recently I have been informed that King Gilgamesh just may fear our growing naval army. But that still does not give him a right to come whence he pleases and thin out our vessels!"

The men erupted with agreeing shouts and Diarmuid let them express the anger he has felt for that king. In a way he was glad that this kingdom has been introduced to King Gilgamesh like their neighbor had when he became king. He was glad the people were seeing just how wicked and ill the man was. He wanted them to stand up for themselves and declare that they shall not tolerate that man whom is not their king.

Raising his hand, Diarmuid silenced the room. "In wishing to keep peace I move to send an ambassador to speak with King Gilgamesh."

"That seems quite dangerous, my liege," an advisor spoke up. "Tensions do arise and suppose he destroys the ship carrying our ambassador? What can ensure his safety?"

"The king's wife," Diarmuid replied. The entire room quieted themselves and thought deeply on his words.

"Yes, that does seem like an interesting ploy. But should the ship be received into the docks and then the king order our men slain?"

Diarmuid shook his head. "Queen Altria can defend them if you are so concerned." Diarmuid wanted to chuckle at the sight of the man's face going red over the embarrassment of the thought of a woman defending men, but Diarmuid kept quiet and remained solemn.

"It is a meeting full of danger, King Diarmuid," Captain Fionn spoke up. "You would first need to find someone willing to risk their life on this dangerous journey and then a crew to steer the ship."

"I have no doubt that someone shall rise to the challenge," Diarmuid said. "The people of this day and age are courageous, not even death frightens them."

"What about the queen?" an advisor spoke up. "Are you willing to let her go?"

Diarmuid understood that everyone knew about Altria being his lover and with concerned eyes they looked upon him and Diarmuid couldn't have felt their care more. He smiled sadly and simply said, "This is not her kingdom. She will never belong here."

When the meeting had adjourned and everyone exited the hall, the king was the last and so when he left the room he was met with an expectant queen who had her hands clasp together with hope.

"How did the meeting go?" Altria asked.

Diarmuid smiled and placed his hands upon her to steady her as he gave her the news he knew she had been waiting to hear for so long. "You are going home," he informed before he dropped his hands from her shoulders and walked off with the rest of the court toward the banquet hall to dine and converse more.

Altria had caught herself smiling, as did Lady Gráinne who had later met with the queen to dine with. When the woman inquired as to what made her so joyous, Altria had informed her of what Diarmuid had told her. Gráinne had been happy that she was, but when a frown came upon the lady of the castle's face, Gráinne asked, "What of Diarmuid? Was he happy as well?"

"He did smile for me," Altria said, remembering the look her lover gave her before he departed from her. "I know he had been wanting to return me to my home."

"I know as well," Gráinne said with a nod of her head. "But he loves you, my lady. I should think your departure to tear him inside."

Even though Altria knew that Diarmuid loved her, the way he fought to return her to her kingdom hadn't brought about any doubt in Altria's mind that the man would miss her. Of course he would. She wondered if his trial to get his kingdom out of their isolation just to return her often begged him to quit for the sole reason of his heart.

"You'll be returning to your husband," Gráinne noted as she placed her silverware down and wiped her lips clean.

Then there was that thought. Altria was not a liar and would not begin to become one now. She did not enjoy her married life and neither did she enjoy the presence of her husband. It was true she would return home but also to her husband who no doubt would find her sudden appearance full of health quite troublesome.

"It is true, Lady Gráinne," Altria said. "But more than the arms of my husband it is the arms of my children I wish to cling to."

"More so than your lover?"

Altria looked at the brunette and then cast her eyes down. Though she was excited about finally being able to return to her home, her children, her friends . . . in doing so she would have to leave Diarmuid. The two had reconciled their hearts and bonded their souls once more. It was going to be harder to leave the man than she had imagined.

The nights to come were spent in silence and Diarmuid would often return to their bed late, claiming that he had to see to the sailing preparations as to the message their ambassador. The king would then lay his head down and sleep, no longer holding Altria in his arms as he had every night. Altria had been so concerned that one night she had touched the weary man.

"Diarmuid," she said. "I am cold. Will you not hold me in your arms any longer?"

The man was quick to open his eyes and look at his lover leaning over him. Opening his arms he let the woman lay her head upon his chest and wrap her arms around his torso as he wrapped his strong arms around her back. With a content sigh she closed her eyes.

"I wish you to hold me unto the day of my departure," Altria said. "Do not think I cannot see your attempts to train your body to slumber alone. While I am still here, you may hold me."

Opening her eyes, Altria looked up at her lover. Diarmuid was smiling down at her, but so much sadness spilled out of his gaze that Altria felt her heart clutch. Her lips trembled before she laid her head back down upon Diarmuid's chest and bid herself not cry.

It was hard on the both of them knowing that their departure was approaching. Altria knew she would eventually leave, but now that a date was actually set she felt that the days passed too quickly. Before she knew it she was sitting upon Diarmuid's bed, begging him not to leave her side for in the early morning she would leave with the ambassador.

"You must return to your kingdom, Altria," Diarmuid said as he caressed her cheek now wet with tears.

Altria took hold of his hand and kissed it. "I know," she said with a sad smile, her deep green eyes peering up at her lover who stood before her. She knew he wished to hold her for a little longer as well, but wasn't this what they had once been praying for?

"How long will you unfold your isolation?" Altria asked, still holding Diarmuid's hand close to her cheek.

The king let out a sigh and then closed his eyes. "Until the ambassador returns, but no ships are allowed to dock here except our own."

"Then I shan't be expecting any visits," Altria said with a heavy nod before letting go of Diarmuid's hand. "Know that I shall miss you with all my heart."

"And I you," Diarmuid said, leaning closer to his lover. "In me letting you go know that I honor your worries over mine."

"Erin," Altria said with a nod. Diarmuid nodded as well as Altria said, "I know that he is safe but my heart shall not rest until I can protect him with my own hands."

"Then you will know how I feel until we meet once more," Diarmuid said. "I do know you will keep our son safe, but I long to protect you and he with my own strength. If I could follow you I would, but before I was king I was a banished dishonored servant. Either way I must remain here."

"Then I shall pray for the day I see you once more and that God allow you to hold your child," Altria said but watched Diarmuid frown. Placing her hand upon his she said, "Do not be angry at the Lord, He may hold one last blessing for you."

Diarmuid forced out a smile before he turned. "I shall let you sleep peacefully tonight and not take part of the bed. I want you well rested for the journey tomorrow."

"Stop denying yourself, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne!" Altria called out before the man had a chance to leave their room. She had risen from the bed and stood her ground while exclaiming her feelings as well as his. "Hold me tonight, kiss me tonight, love me tonight, because you don't know how long we'll remain absent the other's embrace."

Altria remained still as the man turned to her. She could see the want in his eyes but the resistance of his body. "You're killing me, Altria, can't you see? When you command me to love I cannot disobey because my chest still yields that heart of a servant. In these commands I am heartbroken knowing that we will inevitably depart. You have children to return to when I have nothing."

Smiling softly, Altria walked up to the saddened king who cast his eyes and head down, his shoulders slumped and knees bent. He honestly looked broken, but Altria believed in him and knew he was much stronger than this. Taking a hold of his face Altria kissed him. She kissed him once, then twice, then thrice; however many times it took for him to hold her and to return her affection.

Their passion had never been so high that night when they made love. As they clung to each other so closely they could barely breathe but none were concerned with breathing, just feeling and knowing the love from their soul mate.

The morning had come too soon for the both of them and it had been too quiet when the two dressed. They spared no glance toward one another nor had they spoke any words. Instead, Diarmuid escorted Altria to the docks as he said he would and when she readied to walk up the boarding plank onto the ship next to the ambassador she had stopped and turned to look at Diarmuid who stood upon the docks with his knights.

Lady Gráinne had been standing near. She had made eye contact with Altria and in that the lady of the castle curtsied. Altria did the same before she walked toward the king and bid him words of farewell.

"Thank you so much, King Diarmuid, for your hospitality and guidance of this kingdom and people. My stay here has been unforgettable and I shall always remember the sights and kindness I did behold here." Altria smiled softly and looked at the white stone towers of the shore-town and then toward the people standing near, every one dressed in fine fabric for the queen's departure.

"It was my honor, Queen Altria," Diarmuid said as he bowed himself and took her hand to kiss it, but before his lips could touch that soft skin the queen had moved her hand away and instead clutched onto him and pulled close to him. Leaning up on her toes, Altria kissed Diarmuid deep, in front of the town, the ship and the knights.

Altria didn't care what anyone would think or say; she just wanted one last kiss from her lover before she departed. When Altria pulled away she was surprised when Diarmuid pulled her close and kissed her himself. The kiss wasn't long but Altria felt all of his love and when he pulled away she felt him leave all of his affection with her.

"Go," Diarmuid whispered. "But know that we shall meet again one day."

Without another word Altria wrapped her arms around the man and held him close. A few tears slipped past her eyes but she wiped them away when she let go of the king and smiled. She hadn't the heart to tell him that she loved him there. She had feared for his delicate heart that she knew was breaking as she boarded the ship and set sail. She watched the docks fade into the distance but mostly she watched Diarmuid fade.

The king had stood upon the docks until Altria could see him no more and all around was nothing but ocean. It was a shame that their isles were so distant and yet so close. It made the yearning all the more worse.

"Trouble not your heart, Queen Altria, for you are returning home." Altria turned toward an older man who smiled softly at her.

"You must be Ambassador Aengus Óg," Altria concluded before offering the man a curtsy. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Diarmuid has told me so much about you. Especially how bold you were to rise above all other representatives and carry on this case."

The man chuckled before laying his hands upon the railing to watch the passing waves. "I am not afraid of your husband. Like many of us we see our kingdom as great once more and if a war should arise amidst our tensions then I have no doubt that our king would rise to the challenge and defeat your kingdom."

"You are a brave man," Altria noted with a giggle. "To think yourselves so high above the kingdom who came out supreme in the Isle Wars."

Aengus nodded but looked toward the woman. "I do so now that they have lost their most valuable asset." Altria blinked in confusion. She hadn't remembered losing anything as important as her knight, Diarmuid.

"And what is that, good sir?" she asked, eyeing him curiously as to how he should explain his statement.

"Their queen," Aengus replied with a sure nod. Altria seemed taken aback and the older man just smiled. "Though you in your leadership had beaten our kingdom and caused the downfall of our king, you are a fascinating woman, Queen Altria. Surely you saw no hate from the people toward you. In fact because of your unexpected visit our isle has gotten to know you quite well and how our king had come to swear himself to you, now we can see why."

Altria blushed and then pulled her hair back behind her ear in a motion of her unease. "I am not so great as you may think. One would think me mad for giving my kingdom to a foreigner."

Aengus had nodded. "True," he admitted. "But because of your actions we received a king far greater than any in the past. Such circumstances that drove him to us are unfortunate, but it was God's will and He works in mysterious ways."

"You are a kind people," Altria said with a soft sigh as she placed her hand above her heart. "You remind me much of my own people. Know that both peoples share so many traits I often wonder how two small islands of land hast separated them. Surely we are kin."

"Perhaps so," Aengus muttered with a nod. "It is a miracle in itself to understand how so much bitter blood can be forgotten. I had never thought that I or the people would take to you so quickly."

"Nor I your people," Altria said with a smile. "If war does not come, I should wish to visit. Do you think they would welcome me back?"

"Isolation or not, I'm sure the people would be glad to see you, Queen Altria," Aengus informed and Altria felt her heart lighten just a little at the thought of visiting once more.


End file.
